


we're still going, eight in the morning

by nooelgallagher, yoursongonmyheart



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blowjobs, Fluff and Smut, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Like, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Slight Pain Kink, anyway, harry is a baker, louis is a dj, niall and liam take the piss out of them, there's also sex, this is basically one big giant self-indulgence really, we didn't mean for it to go this far, which we didn't plan on oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5586844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nooelgallagher/pseuds/nooelgallagher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoursongonmyheart/pseuds/yoursongonmyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry washes his hands quickly before grabbing his phone. His screen lights up to 3 notifications.</p>
<p>DJTommo is now following you!</p>
<p>@DJTommo mentioned you in a tweet!</p>
<p>Direct Message from @DJTommo!</p>
<p>Harry yelps, throwing his phone to Niall who just barely catches it.</p>
<p>Niall looks down at the phone, seeing first the tweet, then the DM. He tosses the phone back to Harry, who nearly drops it. “What are ya doing, mate! Answer him!”</p>
<p>Harry thinks for a moment about what he wants to say. This is his chance to actually talk to Louis Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson messaged him directly. He can say anything he wants. He begins typing, his fingers shaky.</p>
<p>Niall comes over to stand next to Harry and peers down, looking to see what he wrote. When he does, he lets out a groan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>...Or, the one where Harry owns a bakery, Louis is a radio DJ, and Niall and Liam roll their eyes at their incessant flirting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're still going, eight in the morning

**Author's Note:**

> If you had told us 10 years ago in 4th period gym class we'd one day amount to writing this catastrophe, we would have laughed in your face.

It takes Harry about two weeks to notice. It takes that long because he’s busy in the mornings. While he’s aware of his surroundings, most of his focus is on the flat boxes carefully piled in the boot of his Range Rover. His mornings consist of a lot of rushing around, deliveries here and there, up and down the streets, rain or shine. The Post Office. Two banks. An animal shelter. Three local shops. Some of the boxes have an assortment of bagels, others have Niall’s pastries, and others are filled to the brim with scones and muffins. It’s a lot of running around before morning rush hour, but Harry doesn’t mind because it gives him time to think and listen to the music that Niall always bitches about (though Niall likes Justin Bieber so Harry is pretty certain his judgment on good music died in 2010). His radio is tuned to Metro 98.5’s morning show. Niall always tells him he’s not allowed to listen to it in the bakery because of his (small) obsession with DJ Tommo, so Harry resorts to obsessing over DJ Tommo as he runs around his little corner of London. It’s not like he minds having his voice accompany him for the morning deliveries, it makes everything go a little faster and it definitely doesn’t hurt that DJ Tommo makes Harry full on cackle at 7 a.m. on a Monday morning.

DJ Tommo (or Louis Tomlinson, as his Wikipedia page describes him) is quite possibly the only thing that gets Harry out of bed some mornings. Well, that and a well-timed cup of coffee. Harry’s time block is very sensitive for deliveries, and Louis always knows exactly the kind of music Harry likes. He’s largely inappropriate with the humor of a fifteen year old boy, and maybe it’s because the station is geared towards adults and Louis’ show is so early in the morning, but somehow he gets away with tons of innuendo on air that Harry isn’t sure wouldn’t get another host sacked. He’s consistent, has a soft raspy voice, a sharp sense of humor and cutting laugh, and Harry loves spending every morning with him (figuratively of course). That’s probably why he didn’t notice that almost every day Louis played Sweet Disposition by the Temper Trap during Harry’s delivery route. It was Harry’s favorite song yes, but Louis didn’t know that. Hell Louis Tomlinson had no idea who Harry Styles was (he did have a small mention in a BuzzFeed article one time, when his and Niall’s bakery made it to number four on a list affectionately titled _10 Bakeries You Definitely Haven’t Been to in London_ , though Harry probably figures that the bakery’s name is more memorable than his).

It’s when Harry’s balancing two boxes of scones in one hand that he really starts wondering about the song and Louis’ incessant playing of it. Does he know someone who loves the song on a morning commute? Does he just love the song? Is he playing it for his girlfriend? Boyfriend? Why does Louis choose this time block to play that song? It nags Harry for the rest of his deliveries. It nags him on his drive back to the bakery. It nags him when he walks through the back door, swinging his car keys around his finger, and it nags him until he sees Niall standing over a tray of sugar cookies, meticulously sprinkling green sugar.

He wraps his arms around Niall’s waist and it is a testament to their friendship that Niall doesn’t even look up from his little creations.

“ _Nialler_ ,” Harry groans, headbutting Niall in the back.

“I swear to God, Styles, if you make me mess up these cookies, I’m going to throw out your original vinyl of _Rumours_.”

It’s an empty threat. “You bought that for me,” he reminds him, but he lets go of his waist and takes a step back to peer over his shoulder. He’s unsurprised to see rows and rows of Irish flags in front of him. “You do realize you live in England now, right?”

“Shhh,” Niall says, dropping the tiny crystals down in little piles. “You’ll hurt their feelings.”

“Did the order of icing sugar arrive yet?” Harry asks, glancing around the kitchen to see if any new boxes have taken up residence on a counter.

“Nope,” Niall says. “Might wanna give ‘em a call about that.”

Harry huffs. “Sure. I’ll get right on that while you make love to your cookies.”

Niall drops a final pinch of sugar with a flourish and turns to face Harry, his formerly-blonde hair darkening at the roots and only slightly covered in flour. “These cookies are a statement, you know.” He raises a hand and points a finger right at Harry. “I don’t say anything when you break out those walnut cookies your nan used to make every Sunday and start singing to them.”

Harry narrows his eyes. “Don’t bring my nan’s cookies into this.”

Niall turns around again, back to his cookies. He bends down, admiring his handiwork and waves a hand in Harry’s general direction. “Glad to see you made it back from your daily solo jam session to Tommo in one piece, babe.”

“About that,” Harry says. He walks to a hook on the wall behind Niall, grabbing his stained favorite apron. He pulls it over his head, tying the strings around his waist. “I noticed something today.”

“Oh dear,” Niall shakes his head, laughing a bit, “What did you notice today then?”

Niall is mocking him. Actually mocking him. The wanker. “Am I not allowed to notice things, Niall?”

Niall throws him a look, “I’m pretty sure you once told me, while drunk, the exact number of voices that Louis had. Sleepy Louis. Happy Louis. High Louis. Sad Louis-”

Harry cuts him off, “He plays Sweet Disposition almost every morning during my delivery block.”

Niall quirks an eyebrow at him. “So?”

Harry huffs, throwing his hands up, “Why! Why does he play the same song almost every morning?”

“Mate, I don’t know,” Niall jogs to the front as he hears the bell on the door ding, “Why don’t you just ask him?”

“Oh yes Niall,” Harry yells, “Let me just call him up right now.”

Niall pokes his head back into the kitchen, “He have a Twitter?”

Harry whips his head up, just as Niall smirks, “There’s your answer.”

Harry doesn’t have time to reply before Niall’s head disappears again, his loud, lilting voice carrying through the front of the store as he booms, “Mornin’! How can we help you?”

Harry leans against the counter for a moment, eyeing up Niall’s cookies. They do look rather nice. They’ll be a big hit with the footie match coming up tomorrow. He steals one as he heads into the back office to call the supply company about the missing icing sugar delivery.

Harry tries his best but ultimately fails to think about what Niall said about Louis Tomlinson having a Twitter. Sure, Harry could Tweet at him. But the chances of him actually seeing it are pretty slim.

It’s as he’s piping a series of small dots in a gradient over a two tier birthday cake that it hits him. He drops his piping bag to the counter and pulls his phone from his pocket. He opens his Twitter app and searches for the official Twitter for 98.5 Metro. When he finds it, he composes a new tweet.

Harry stares at the screen for a second in disbelief. He actually just sent a tweet to the radio station. The station that Louis Tomlinson is a DJ at. That very station. He locks his screen and pockets his phone, looking at the cake he’s almost finished working on. All that’s left to do is wait.

~~~

Louis Tomlinson is idly scrolling through the Metro 98.5 Twitter, bopping his head to a Florence and the Machine song when a new tweet appears at the top of the radio station’s feed. He stops short. Reads the tweet. Then rereads it. There’s no way.

See the thing about Louis is that he likes his tea in the morning. He likes it scalding hot and he likes it with milk, no sugar. He also likes it so much that he needs to remind himself to take a break and make his (third, who’s counting) cup of tea in the morning. Starting a morning radio show at 5:30 a.m. every morning is not ideal, but when you have tea and you can play a song to remind yourself to make said tea, everything is that much easier. Most of his listeners are still half asleep at 7 every morning anyway, morning commuters and bitter students who are knocking back their morning drinks like they’re liquid gold instead of just a caffeine rush.

But this person, this _Harry Styles_ , has noticed. This isn’t good. Sweet Disposition is his alarm for God’s sake. No one is supposed to notice the song repetition. The head of the station is going to have Louis’ head for using a song on airplay as an alarm clock for his tea. The head of the station reads these Tweets. Louis needs to get rid of the evidence immediately. He takes out his phone, opening up to his personal Twitter. God, he’s going to look like such a knob and the song is coming to a close, he has to be on air in less than thirty seconds. He finds the Tweet, this Harry Styles person’s Tweet, and clicks follow immediately.

“Good morning again everyone, you're listening to 98.5 Metro, London's choice station for alternative music and talk. I hope you are having a lovely Thursday so far. Before the song break we had some great callers with their most epic birthday stories, and I had a bit too much fun with it. So if you have any more birthday stories feel free to call in now. If your story can top Liam Payne’s 25th birthday story, I will personally send you a gift basket,” Louis cackles into the microphone, the phone board absolutely lighting up. This is Louis’ favorite part of his job. He might not be a morning person at all, but the relationship between his callers and him, that’s just something that makes every morning in his studio alone a little better. Also, any time he can make fun of Liam, one of his best friends and the weekend morning host, Louis will not pass up. Louis presses the first button, “Good morning, what birthday are we talking about?”

The voice that comes through is clearly a Northerner and not his typical London caller. Louis’ absolute favorite. The random callers have the best stories. “Mornin’ man. We’re talking about my 21st birthday. Went out with a few of my mates to a bar. Ended up in France with 3 male strippers we picked up along the way. Ended up going to Disney in Paris the next morning, so I guess it was worth it.”

Louis whoops loudly, “Now that’s a story mate! That might be the story to top Liam Payne’s 25th birthday,” Louis pauses, intrigued, “Now where did this party start? London?”

“Yeah, mate. Started in London probably about 5 p.m. the night before my birthday.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, impressed, “And you don’t remember anything until waking up with male strippers in France?”

The caller laughs, “Nah man. Can’t remember a thing.”

“But the logical choice was, we’re in France so let’s go to Disney?” Louis chirps, his favorite part of his day was the banter. He loves taking the piss out of his callers.

“I mean obviously bro, where else are you going to go for your birthday? When in France I guess. Isn’t that a phrase?”

Louis laughs loudly, “Pretty sure it’s when in Rome mate, but you have the right to change it to whatever you want.” The caller and Louis both laugh. “That’s our story for the morning. Always go out in London and hope you wake up in France with strippers so you can go to Disney for your birthday.”

The caller laughs along again, “Only way to spend your birthday. Was amazing.”

“Thank you, what’s your name? This way the callers know that you upstaged just about every single one of them.”

“Zayn.”

“Thank you Zayn for calling in, loved the story mate.”

“Thanks man!” Zayn laughs, hanging up.

“I think that tops us off for epic birthdays today. Here’s Jimmy Eat World with The Middle.” Louis clicks on the song, eyeing his phone. He’s not finished with this Harry Styles. He needs that Tweet deleted. It needs to be gone before anyone that is not Louis reads it. He doesn’t need anyone else catching onto his routine. He likes his routine.

He composes a tweet:

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=21ciaa0)

Harry has about 2 minutes to answer him. Louis refreshes his Twitter notifications at least 6 times before he finally clicks on Harry’s page. And - oh. Harry follows him. Louis quickly presses Send Direct Message with 30 seconds left in the song. He needs that Tweet gone. The song ends before Louis can question his sanity and life choices. The Back On Air notification lights up, and Louis is back on his game.

~~~

Niall whistles as he walks back into the kitchen, “Cake looks great! Lux is going to be super excited. Party is tomorrow right?”

“Yeah, at the preschool. Have to deliver it early and I think we have another cake order for her party on Saturday too.” Harry pushes his hair out of his face, only getting icing on his cheek.

Niall dawdles around for a second, “So did you check Twitter?”

Harry’s heart hammers a bit, “Should I check Twitter?”

Niall nods solemnly, “I think you should check Twitter.”

Harry washes his hands quickly before grabbing his phone. His screen lights up to 3 notifications.

_DJTommo is now following you!_

_@DJTommo mentioned you in a tweet!_

_Direct Message from @DJTommo!_

Harry yelps, throwing his phone to Niall who just barely catches it.

Niall looks down at the phone, seeing first the tweet, then the DM. He tosses the phone back to Harry, who nearly drops it. “What are ya doing, mate! Answer him!”

Harry thinks for a moment about what he wants to say. This is his chance to actually talk to Louis Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson messaged him directly. He can say anything he wants. He begins typing, his fingers shaky.

Niall comes over to stand next to Harry and peers down, looking to see what he wrote. When he does, he lets out a groan.

“Seriously, mate?” he asks. “That's your brilliant opening line?”

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=ve21wy)

“What’s wrong with that? I want to know!” Harry whines. 

Niall shakes his head, “Think it’s time for that cupcake order you idiot. Maybe next you can win over your DJ with knock knock jokes and puns.”

Harry’s face lights up, “We could tell him the name of our bakery!”

Niall just rolls his eyes as the bell in the front chimes again, “Cupcakes, Harry. 3 dozen.”

Harry pouts. Their bakery name is very punny. Louis would like it. Well, Harry hopes he’d like it. He and Niall had spent an entire afternoon over beer and chips debating between names for their new business. They wanted something funny and memorable. This bakery is their pride and joy.

“Do you have the order form?” he asks, sighing and scraping crumbly icing from his cheek.

Niall pulls a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and passes it to Harry. “It’s basic. Vanilla and buttercream. Tara isn’t here yet so I’m going to hover out front to help Joey.”

“Is Joey feeling better?” Harry asks, thinking about how three days ago their intern was down with a head cold. Harry had told him, in no uncertain terms, to stay the fuck home.

Niall nods. “I have him working the register until Tina gets here. Then I’ll send him back to help you.”

“Sounds good,” Harry says, finally unfolding the paper and looking at the order form. Niall’s chicken scratch rivals Harry’s own, but he’s had almost twenty years’ worth of practice at distinguishing each letter. He makes out the order for 3 dozen cupcakes of vanilla with buttercream frosting and a request for hot pink and purple flowers in fondant. Birthday party, maybe.

He hooks his phone up to a speaker system in the corner of the kitchen (since he’s not allowed to listen to DJ Tommo at work) and selects his “Mix, Shake, and Bake” playlist - Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, Madonna, and an old school Cher song make up some of the tracks, the goal being pop and dance tracks to get him moving as he starts measuring out dry ingredients and starts lining up his mixers.

By the time Joey comes into the back room, Harry has three mixers going and is doing a side shuffle in front of them, singing along to Donna Lewis.

~~~

Louis is annoyed. First, because Harry Styles never replied to the Tweet. Second, because Harry Styles replied to the DM and _still hasn’t deleted his Tweet to the station_. Worse, Louis had replied again and he’s been staring at the screen of his computer waiting for a response.

Honestly. What does Harry Styles do with his day that he can’t reply to a simple message in a timely fashion? Louis huffs, clicking on Harry’s page. He’s just checking for...informational purposes of course. He needs to know why Harry hasn’t answered.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2crn5p2)

Louis’ eyes scan over the page. Harry is a baker, and -oh. Oh. He’s tall. And handsome. With a nice little body and long curls. Louis keeps scrolling. Harry apparently is a baker during the day and a bad joke enthusiast during the night. Louis snorts, holding in his laughter at the poorly timed knock knock jokes in Harry’s Tweets. He glances at the time, it’s nearing 10, Harry might be working still. If he works at a bakery, it makes sense that he would notice the same song every morning. It didn’t give him the right to call Louis out on the same song every morning but it made sense. But that also meant that Harry was listening to Louis every morning.

Louis stopped scrolling, glancing at the picture of Harry the baker with flour all over his face and the monkey covering his eyes emoji as the caption, and his stomach flutters a bit. There are a few other pictures on the front of his page, easy to click on. Louis only feels mildly creepy as he sees a picture of what must be a young Harry holding up a loaf of bread. There’s a dark-haired woman in two of the pictures and Harry is the spitting image of her. His mum, maybe? The blonde guy in a couple of his photos is tagged as Niall Horan. He’s cute, Louis notices absently; large straight teeth and spiky blonde hair and blue eyes, but his eyes don’t leave Harry’s dimpled grin or curly hair as he scrolls and scrolls.

There’s a retweet from Niall about what has to be the bakery Harry works at and Louis cackles loudly at the name. He immediately clicks on the Twitter for ‘Top of the Muffin to Ya’. He glances quickly at the bio, and his eyes widen. Harry’s not just a baker; he’s the owner of the bakery with Niall. Louis keeps scrolling, vaguely aware that he’s mildly stalking Harry on social media. He can’t help it though, he just wants to see more of the baker’s face. Maybe. Probably. It’s just research, really. He’s trying to learn more a bit about the guy who uncovered his tea agenda.

Louis scowls as he sees a picture of Niall and Harry, cheeks squeezed together and eyes lit up in laughter, in front of what has to be their bakery, a quaint little store on what seems to be a busy London street. Impressive. All of the pictures on the bakery are of detailed cakes, scones, pastries, cupcakes that quite frankly have Louis’ mouth watering. Blueberry scones with crystallized sugar coating. Puff pastries and crumbly butter croissants. Chocolate ganache dribbled over cupcakes. Cannolis dipped in mini chocolate chips. Louis is half hard and he needs to stop. His eyes fall on a link to the bakery’s Instagram. He clicks it before he has a chance to wonder. He finds Harry’s Instagram quickly, heart swooping everytime he catches a glimpse of his dimpled smile. Louis’ jaw drops as he stares openly at the picture in front of him. It is a closeup of Harry’s midsection. With Harry in a floral button down shirt, his chest far too covered, and a necklace traveling down his sternum. Louis’ eyes trail over Harry’s lean body, slight curve of his hips, the just barest hint of skin peaking out from above his trouser line, his thick thighs expanding the black jeans in all the right places, the line of Harry’s- he closes the app quickly, catching his breath.

He opens up his direct messages. Louis could do this. Louis could handle a baker with a to-die-for body, he is 28 years old for God’s sake. He could handle a cute boy.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2vrssgh)

Louis takes a deep breath and smiles, apparently so hard that Jade from Traffic peeks her head in. “Louis,” she calls, “what’s that going on with your face right now?”

Louis schools his face into somewhat of a normal stoic face, failing miserably, “Just, uh, about to go on air for the last block of my shift,” Louis nods solemnly grabbing his water, “Have a hangover this morning,” he takes a big gulp of water, “Ready for my nap.”

Jade stares at him for a beat longer, “Right. Well. Have a nice rest of your day. I’ll be in my booth.”

Louis’ phone chirps, his stomach dropping and his hand flying over his phone practically slamming the table. “See you Jade!” Jade shakes her head, her long curls swaying from side to side, and disappears from sight.

Louis opens the Twitter app immediately, unable to control his excitement. He almost giggles when he sees Harry’s message.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=16ite7s)

Louis goes back to check if Harry deleted the tweet, but it’s still right there, hovering on his page. Louis thinks of his reply.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2rrm3y0)

Louis notices the two minute warning just as the notification for _@Harry_Styles Replied to Your Tweet!_ shows up.

Louis has to ball his fist in his mouth to stop from laughing.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=w2oyls)

The reply to his message comes through right after:

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=noypeo)

Louis swears he doesn’t blush at the obvious implication of “lover not a fighter” but continues on.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=105bin5)

Louis flips his phone upside down at that, switching his microphone back on. _You help me get through_. Christ, it’s too early for this.

“Aaaaaaaand welcome back, my lovely listeners.” Louis’ voice booms back into microphone, his eyes catching on the time. “You have me for one more hour before I leave you for the day. We’ve got another hour of commercial-free music, courtesy of Dom’s Furniture Outlet. We also want to remind our listeners of the ice sculpture festival happening this weekend in Camden. Yes, it’s only October, but these artists have lots to do to prepare for the holidays, so stop by to show your support! Right now on 98.5 Metro, we have Imagine Dragons, I Bet My Life.”

Louis switches off his microphone and takes a breath. He closes his eyes and flips over his phone. There’s another notification, another message from Harry.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=21oj6x)

Louis swallows. Tattoos. He can handle tattoos. He saw a few of them dabbled across Harry's arms in some pictures. There was even a peak of one on his torso in the one picture. Louis blinks. He has a litter of them on his arms. He can handle it. He hesitates for a second. He could act like he knows almost everything about Harry via Instagram and Twitter. Or he can make this seem like a natural conversation where one person did not creep obsessively all over social media. Louis goes with the latter.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2gvty50)

Harry's response is quick.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=rlyia1)

Louis has to stop himself from smirking. Niall is a mate, he likes the sound of the word mate. Mate is good. Mate is great, even.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=5owgsg)

The response time is way too long.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=6ygu9d)

Louis grins in spite of himself, because he’s pretty sure Harry is a five year old in the body of a guy in his, what, mid-twenties? He can almost hear the whine in his _heeeeeeeey_ and he hasn’t even heard Harry’s voice. He quickly chooses a song from his catalogue and plays it without an intro, figuring he just needs to survive the next fortyish minutes before he can sign off.

He sends Harry another message:

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=27yr8nr)

He waits a minute, then five. Then ten. And Harry still hasn’t responded. Louis frowns.

The thing is, Harry doesn’t actually _owe_ him a reply. He’s probably busy at work. Like Louis should be, instead of dicking around on Twitter and...flirting with cute boys who bake cupcakes. Louis is a professional, and he still has a half hour left of airtime before he can switch over to Jade for traffic and then Tim will take over for the afternoon.

He keeps an eye on his Twitter, just to see if Harry ever replies, but the response never comes. Louis feels only marginally sorry for himself as he spends the rest of his shift playing indie hit after indie hit, tracks that are probably a bit of a downer for listeners but he can’t help it.

At long last, he places his phone face down on the table in front of him and takes a breath. One last announcement before he signs off, and he will absolutely not think about Harry Styles as he does it.

He switches on his microphone. “And that’s that for today, my friends!” he calls out over the outro of the last song he selected, an old Arcade Fire song that will probably get him some bitchy Tweets calling him a poser. “Thank you for joining me this fine Thursday morning as we trudge through the daily grind. Tomorrow morning, listen in for how to win tickets to our private studio session with Brendon Urie happening next week! We’ll also be talking disaster first dates, so be sure to call in if you have a story from hell you want us all to laugh over. Until tomorrow, I’ve been DJ Tommo, and you’re listening to 98.5 Metro!”

He flips off his microphone and starts up Human by The Killers, a fan favorite and a quick choice so he can just get off the air as quickly as possible. He takes a breath and gives himself a mental pat on the back. See? He can do this. He can go five minutes without thinking about Harry Styles.

He’s just about to slide his chair back from the table when he sees his phone light up from its place face down in front of him. He bites his lower lip, a prickling of nerves making his skin feel tight and drawn. He lifts up his phone and unlocks it. A new message from Harry.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=v3kbyx)

~~~

Harry is pretty sure his heart is going to beat right out of his chest.

Is Louis flirting? He’s pretty sure he’s flirting. Harry was not prepared for this.

Harry places his phone back in his pocket and stares at the wall. He eyes up the smudged class of the two identical black frames above the desk in the back office that house his and Niall’s diplomas from culinary school. They should think about getting new frames, the wood starting to warp from the temperature fluctuations and steam and oils in the air from the kitchen.

He goes back to his task at hand, inventory for a corporate party they are catering in two weeks, and ignores the phantom burning in his pocket from his phone. He feels on edge, but he refuses to look at his phone again until after he reviews the items they have already and will need for the party. Niall has already taken care of the major stuff, the flour and sugars and massive vats of butter that will be required, but Harry needs to ensure they have the herbs and spices needed for a few speciality items that will be on the menu. He refuses to reply to Louis Tomlinson until he completes his fucking job.

He’d enjoy Niall’s chatter in the background right now to distract him from his own thoughts, but Niall is teaching Joey how to use the new cake spray paint machine, so he’s preoccupied. All Harry can do is try to hum along to the song playing on his iPhone, and to be honest he’s not entirely sure what it is.

At long last, he checks off the last item they will need to order (rosemary for a savory cupcake that Niall swears up and down could bring about world peace) and gets the disarray of the desk under some kind of working order. He takes a breath and pulls out his phone, thinking.

Louis Tomlinson wants to know what kind of music he listens to...why? So he can play it? Is he just curious? Is he teasing? Harry doesn’t want to come on too strong, but he wants to keep this thing - whatever it is - going with Louis. It’s fun. It’s surprising.

He feels bad when he sees how much time has passed since Louis messaged him back, but then he shakes his head. Louis probably didn’t even notice that Harry hasn’t replied. Maybe Louis thinks he’s being annoying or weird. Maybe maybe maybe.

In the end, though, Harry’s self-control loses out. He pulls up Twitter and composes his next message, hoping beyond hope that Louis is in this with him.

~~~

Harry frowns at his phone as he places it in the cup holder next to his tea before his morning deliveries. He had specifically kept the ringer on the entire afternoon the day before, hoping that the phone would ding and Louis would continue whatever they had started. Harry takes a deep breath before checking his itinerary. Had he taken it too far by flirting so openly with Louis? Was Louis not flirting with him as well? Did Harry read the entire situation wrong?

He glances down at his phone one last time before rubbing his sweaty hands on his jeans and finally turning on the truck, Louis’ voice floating through the air.

“We’ve got an excellent morning block coming, so make sure you keep on listening! This is Shut Up and Dance by Walk the Moon.”

Harry goes through his first three deliveries without a hitch. It isn’t until he gets back into the car for his final three on the way back to the bakery that Harry’s heart starts racing. He turns up the radio, making sure he can hear Louis clearly.

“Hope everyone is enjoying their Wednesday morning. Maybe you’ve enjoyed a good muffin this morning or you’ve had time for a full English. Maybe you’re like me and dragging your feet until you get your next cuppa.” Harry freezes, “Recently I’ve been told that everyone needs a wake up call in the morning, something real loud to get your morning going.” Harry is pretty sure he’s not breathing, “So this next one is for all my early listeners, a song to make your morning a little louder. This is the Ramones, I Wanna Be Sedated.”

Harry barks out a laugh, his body going warm all over. He pulls out his phone typing a message, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2upze3o)

He places his phone back before finishing up the deliveries. By the time he heads back to the bakery, Harry still has a smile on his face.

Niall lifts his head up from the dough he’s kneading. “I see your boy finally answered you.”

Harry doesn’t blush as he pulls his apron off the hook, tying it around his waist. He goes to the refrigerator to pull out a cake for the following afternoon. He should finish up some of his cake decorating before he has to leave for Lux’s preschool birthday party.

Niall slams the dough down loudly, “Come on mate! I’m dying here, tell me what happened.”

Harry giggles as he organizes his icing tips. “He played me a song on the show.”

NIall stares at Harry, his hands still, “He played you a song?”

Harry nods sheepishly.

“That’s it? He played you a song? That’s what has you blushin’ like a fool? A song?” Niall finishes up his loaf of bread and puts it in the oven, “I’m working in the front. I can’t believe you’re blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush over a goddamn song.”

Harry laughs loudly as Niall walks through to the front muttering something about phone numbers and dates. Harry goes to pull out his phone to check it, but Niall’s head pops back in. “You’re going to be insufferable aren’t you?”

Harry grins at him, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Niall.”

“I’m finding that video of you playing Chubby Bunny and sending it to Louis Tomlinson directly!” Niall cackles loudly from the front, then curses loudly as something clatters to the floor.

“Don’t forget you’re just as embarrassing in that video mate!” Harry calls back, arranging a flower petal on top of the cake.

He has about two hours before he has to leave for Lux’s birthday party at her preschool across town. She has been yammering about it all week, excited for her two cakes because “Uncle Harry of course I need two cakes! One for school and one for home! A princess cake and a superhero cake!” The princess cake is the one for the preschool. Lux’s mum Lou owns the salon three shops down, one of Harry's stops on his delivery run if Lou is craving something sweet. Lou and Lux have their cravings for Irish cream, so Lou often stops in the bakery with Lux picking something up before or after preschool. Harry turns on his “Brownie Bakin’ and Shakin’” playlist and starts working on some brownies fresh for the bakery. Peanut Butter Truffle Brownies sound like an excellent speciality brownie for the day. What can Harry say? He's in a good mood.

Niall waltzes in the back while Harry is layering the truffle and icing.

“Peanut butter truffle, my favorite!” He makes a move to dip his finger in the bowl.

“Out of my kitchen!” Harry slaps Niall's hand away.

“ _Our_ kitchen, you git!” Niall says, dipping his finger in the bowl anyway and coming away with a scoop of batter. He makes a show of slowly raising the finger to his mouth and sucking the batter off, raising his eyebrows at Harry seductively.

Harry manages a full five seconds of giving Niall an unimpressed glare before he bursts into laughter.

Niall looks at him for a moment. “Pull out your phone, I wanta know what he said. Quick before you have to go.”

Harry almost squeals in delight, pulling his phone out quickly.

Sure enough on the front of his screen is a notification from Louis. He opens the message quickly.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=1nzmtu)

Niall fights the urge to laugh. “I should show him the collage of fifty pictures of you wearing that shirt in different locations.”

Harry narrows his eyes, “You wouldn't dare!” Harry types up his reply quickly:

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=1zgx7pk)

Niall cackles from behind his own phone, “I found the collage!”

Harry puts his own phone down, “Niall. I will tell Bobby Horan what you did to his car our first year at culinary school. I will tell him.”

Niall raises an eyebrow at him, his fingers still moving on his phone. “How do you know I didn't tell him already?”

Harry blinks at him, “Um, the fact that you're alive and standing here in front of me?”

Niall shrugs, “You’re too nice and love my dad too much.”

Harry's phone dings loudly, another message from Louis.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=30c6nmc)

Harry lifts his head to meet Niall's cackling red face, only slightly disbelieving that Niall actually sent the fucking collage. And Louis saw it. He quickly replies.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=wlazpe)

Niall glances at the time, “You're going to be late for Lux’s party. Maybe send him a photo of the kids to change his mind about your crazy obsessions.”

Harry throws Niall a look before he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I am going to go now. I'm going to ignore your semi-good idea of introducing him to children because we have only just met. Well, sort of.”

“But they're your obsession!” Niall interjects. He’s not wrong; Harry does have a soft spot for children.

Harry closes his eyes again exasperated, “I am leaving now, Niall, and I promise I will kill you when I get back.”

Niall grabs Harry's face smoothing his cheeks and giving him a wet kiss. “Have fun, love!”

Harry laughs and pushes Niall off, rolling his eyes fondly. “Do you want me to pick you up anything on my way back?

“Aren’t you staying?” Niall asks, adjusting the tie on his apron.

“For a bit,” Harry says, “but we have that massive order for the B&T Bank brunch tomorrow and we really need to prep for that.”

“Shit,” Niall says, “I was trying to avoid thinking about that nightmare.”

Harry punches Niall in the arm, a gentle nudge. “Be nice. They’re some of our best customers.”

“They’re also some of the best schmoozers, aren’t they?” Niall counters and well, Harry can’t argue with that.

“We need to make croissants. Lot of croissants,” Harry says.

“Yeah yeah,” Niall says, waving him off. “I’ll get it sorted for when you come back.”

“Thanks, man,” Harry says, smiling brightly again. “And hey, let’s cover the defective ones in chocolate and eat them after dinner. Chinese?”

Niall brightens at that. “Now yer talkin’, Styles,” he says. “Now get out. Lux will be pissed if you’re late.”

~~~

So Harry likes the Ramones. Good to know. He’s beginning to like Niall more and more. He was surprised to get the notification of the picture sent to his Twitter, but when he saw who it was from - the blonde guy with the toothy grin in over half of Harry’s pictures - he gave it a look. And he is so, so glad he did.

Now, though, he has to step up his game. He had a feeling about Harry and the Ramones, but that doesn’t give Louis much to go on. There are dozens of artists Harry could be into, and Louis has a whole catalog of them at his disposal. Game on.

When his phone goes off with another notification, this one from Harry, he feels his heart kick up a faster beat. He laughs to himself when he sees Harry’s reply. So Niall shouldn’t have sent that picture, then. He scrolls back to the collage and finds himself staring at all of the pictures of Harry piled on top of each other. Harry, no more than sixteen, with an unruly mop of hair curling at his ears and draped over his forehead. Harry a little older but still probably a teenager, his hair a little longer but still curly, the fringe pulled back over his forehead. Then Harry in his early twenties, hair starting to fall close to his shoulders, and a little bit of stubble on his face. It goes on and on until Louis has closely examined each and every photo and shit, the song is about to end.

“Hello my loves, welcome back! You’re listening to 98.5 Metro and it is a beautiful day. So whether you’re listening to us on your morning commute or you’re lucky enough to still be in bed, it’s shaping up to be a lovely day. On that note, it’s time to turn you over to our trusty Kate in weather, with today’s forecast.”

He switches his mic off and hears Kate start up her weather report. He glances back to his phone and stares for another minute at the collage. Years and years of Harry right at his fingertips, and he’s so flustered he can barely think of another song to play for him. But he’s going to try.

Tomorrow, he thinks, he has a plan.

~~~

Lux is, naturally, beyond excited when Harry walks into her preschool classroom holding a cake box. The princess cake had been unusually fun for him to put together, all purple and pink piped icing, shiny sugar flowers, and a couple fondant embellishments he couldn’t help but put on: a tiara and a bright pink necklace that he’s sure Lux won’t really appreciate, but looked awesome anyway. He snapped a picture before he left the shop, Tweeting it off the bakery’s account and planning on putting in in the bakery’s site photo gallery later.

As soon as she sees Harry, she takes off at a run towards the door and barrels into his leg. “Uncle Hazzy!” she yells, the rest of her classmates chattering in the background and jumping up and down in their seats when they see the big box.

“Hey baby girl,” he says, adjusting the box to hold it in one hand and rubbing her head, tugging on the blonde wisps. “Are you having a good day?”

“Yes!” she shrieks, and Harry shoots her teacher an apologetic look when he hears her go, “Lux, inside voice!”

He spots Lou in the corner of the room, pulling paper plates and napkins from a bag. “Come on, birthday girl, let’s go help your mum.”

Lux’s teacher tries to settle down the rest of the class, who by now all seem to know that a cake is in the big box, and Lux follows Harry over to her mum, refusing to let go of his jeans.

“Hey,” he says, nudging Lou in the arm as he stands next to her. “Budge over, this thing is heavy.”

Lou takes one look at the box and goes, “Harry, they’re five. Why did you bake a cake that could feed twenty _adults_?”

Harry looks down at the box. “Take the rest of it home with you,” he tells her. “Problem solved.”

Lou huffs a laugh and rolls her eyes. “When she starts climbing the walls from a sugar high, I’m sending her over to Uncle Hazzy’s place.”

Harry lights up. “Oh, yes! We can have a tea party like last time. Right, Lux?”

Lux bounces up and down next to his leg, all smiles and uncoordinated limbs. “Yes! Can we paint your nails again?”

Harry laughs. “Sure.” He turns back to Lou and says, “I can’t stay for too long, Niall and I have to get ready for a brunch tomorrow.”

“No worries,” Lou says, “I’m going to take her home after the cake, anyway. I think they’re going to take the kids to the playground to let them burn off the sugar, so it’ll be a good time to make our escape.”

When Lou opens the cake box to see Harry’s creation inside, her eyes widen. “Harry, you didn’t have to do all this!”

“Eh, she only turns five once,” he says, still patting Lux’s head as she clings to his leg.

“You spoil her,” Lou admonishes, but she smiles at the picture Harry and Lux make all the same.

It takes a bit of wrangling, but after a few minutes, Lux’s classmates (and Lux) are all situated - albeit only for a short time - back around their round tables. Their teacher says that they’re going to sing Lux Happy Birthday before they pass out the cake, and if anyone does not want cake, use their class signal to say “no thank you”: a hand on their head.

Lux’s classmates sing a rousing, off-key rendition of Happy Birthday and have barely finished the last syllable before they’re all shouting “CAKE” again. It’s another couple of minutes before the cake can be distributed, but Harry takes the time to cut out symmetrical, child-size portions.

For this one, he’s gone with a basic two-layer rectangle vanilla cake with buttercream. Lux’s cake for her birthday party this weekend will be strawberry (her favorite) with vanilla and chocolate buttercream. Lou had given him free range to do pretty much whatever he wanted, with the exception of one being a princess cake and the other being a superhero one, so he’d toyed with the flavors a bit.

The only time the classroom is quiet is when the kids give a collective “thank yoooooooou” and start digging into their pieces of cake, too busy smearing icing over themselves and the tables to really care about much else. Lux, for her part, looks happy as a clam as she eats her cake, shooting her mum and Harry beaming looks every couple of minutes.

Harry watches her fondly as he turns to her mum. “What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

“Dinner with Tom tonight, where we’ll give her a few presents. We’re saving the rest for Saturday, though.”

Harry nods. “Is she excited?”

“Oh yeah,” Lou responds. “What’s your brunch for tomorrow?”

Harry heaves a big sigh. “B&T Bank,” he answers. He lowers his voice, “It’s going to suck.”

“How’s that?”

“The spread they want is… It’s a lot. Niall and I are going to be working for the rest of the day.”

Lou gives him a sympathetic look. “You need to get out more, hon.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Small business, Lou. We’re building from the ground up. We have to stay available.”

“When’s the last time you went out on a date, though?” She pauses. “And I don’t mean you and Niall going on bro dates.”

Harry chews on his lower lip, eyes never straying from Lux as she picks at the crumbs on her plate with a plastic fork. “It’s been a while,” he admits, “but like I said, when would I have time to date with the hours I work?”

Lou rolls her own eyes, then. “You could make it work.”

Harry huffs a laugh. “Sure. Show me the guy who’s going to be okay with my five am shifts and coming home smelling like butter and vanilla extract.”

~~~

Harry is exhausted. He’s almost dropped two boxes for deliveries and practically stumbles into the car holding a cup of coffee. The bloody boss from B&T called in two more orders the day before, and asked them to move up the brunch time. They also then offered extra tip and a completely free dinner on them, the schmucks, but Harry had agreed with a smile and a promise that everything would be ready because they need the business. He’s barely functioning when he turns on the radio and Louis’ voice booms through the speakers.

“Good morning, good morning! Hope everyone is having a lovely morning so far. We’ve got a new game coming at you this morning, we’ll see if you like it,” Louis pauses, “But right now this is The Beatles.”

Harry wonders about the new game for the entirety of his first delivery. By the time he’s on his third, Louis’ voice comes back through.

“So my lovely listeners. I have a wonderful, fantastic game for you this morning. Maybe we can even do it every morning if you all enjoy it. The premise is as follows: I’m going to throw out a track, any type of track that I feel like, and you’re going to text, tweet, call in, etc., and tell me ‘Yay’ if you love the song, or ‘Nay’ if you hate the song. And if I end up playing the song you lost your virginity to, or your wedding song, or the song that makes you want to rip out your boss’ hair, well, I want to know that too. We might even have prizes for some lucky listeners who have a great, _real_ story for the song. Yes, I will be able to tell if you’re lying.” Harry barks out a laugh, but Louis barrels on. “We even have a jingle.” A short jingle repeating ‘yay or nay’ plays tinnily through the speakers of Harry’s truck. “Our first song is, I Wanna Get Better by the Bleachers.”

Harry turns up the radio, his exhausted mood already improving. He loves this song. He makes it through his deliveries with a newfound energy. It isn’t until steps foot into the bakery and checks his phone that it hits him. There’s a message from Louis right there, saying “so? yay or nay?” and Harry stops short.

“Harry why are you dawdling? Let’s go! We have to finish packing up everything before we leave in literally 20 minutes.” Niall is knee deep in boxes, and actually yelling at him.

Harry fishmouths at him for a second.

“The fuck, Harry?” Niall yells.

“The game!” Harry practically shouts at him. “The game!” Harry runs to put on his apron.

“What are you on about? What game?” Niall points wildly at the boxes, “Grab the fucking boxes and put the croissants in them!”

Harry washes his hands and then starts grabbing croissants quickly, placing them in the paper-lined pastry boxes, “The game that Louis started playing this morning on his show! It’s a game for him to guess songs that I like.” Niall stares at him like he has at least 6 heads. Harry’s eyes must be wild right now. He goes on, “He disguised a guessing game about my favorite songs into a game for his listeners!”

“Watch that box on the floor!” Niall kicks a box out of the way before Harry trips over it, completely out of breath. “So he’s playing a game for his show that’s really just him guessing your favorite songs? Is that what you’re saying?” He has no idea why they are still yelling.

Harry pants, his chest heaving, as they string up the last of the boxes. There’s at least 20 boxes for this brunch, and they need to leave immediately. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying!” Harry shouts back, curls bouncing.

Niall surveys the chaos they just completed, his tone finally not screaming. “Well now you know what you need to do.”

~~~~

Louis’ heart thumps loudly at the messages before him. He reads them over at least 3 times before swallowing and pressing down on the number that Harry gave him to input into his contacts. _“Definite yay. Loved it. And here. To make this a little easier_ ” and a string of 9 digits. God. Louis shouldn’t feel this warm from a phone number he practically already had.

Louis quickly types up a text: _“I think this might be easier, yeah.”_

His text tone is almost immediate. “ _Didn’t want you to think I was weird or anything but texting is easier than always having to go through the Twitter app.”_

Louis almost coos at Harry’s nervousness, feeling overwhelmed and grateful that Harry seems to be feeling it too. This buzzing beneath his skin that makes him worried about saying the wrong thing, but knows Harry probably wouldn’t mind even if he’d say he’d like to overthrow the Queen. _“I’m happy you did. Now I can bother you with incessant chatter and pictures.”_ Louis sends a picture of his microphone and studio, captioning it, ‘my view’.

Harry sends him a picture of the bakery’s kitchen, he assumes, with dozens of boxes lined up and a very unimpressed Niall in the background. He even uses the same caption.

This is going to be fun.

Harry giggles at Niall, who rolls his eyes. “This is going to be terrible.”

After that, it’s like the floodgates open. They’re constantly in contact, talking about everything and anything. Louis texts him every meal he eats because he knows Harry will rib him about eating his vegetables. He also texts him anecdotes about his sisters and pictures of his baby siblings. He tells him all about uni and how he started as a DJ at the studio. Harry texts Louis pictures during Lux’s birthday party that weekend, including him holding her upside like a monkey. He texts Louis all his playlist names to keep him on his toes to guess more songs. He tells him about his parents and how he started the bakery (a wayward Niall followed Harry to culinary school, turned out to have a real talent for it, and used some of his trust fund - yes, his trust fund - to help get it off the ground). He even started a Shit Niall Says While Baking thread with him. By the end of the week they’re inseparable, metaphorically speaking, glued to the hip via phone. Louis is unable to hide the smile in his voice when he guesses a song every morning, but his listeners actually really love the game and Louis is nothing if not a giver.

When Lou waltzes into the bakery for her sweet tooth craving the following Friday, she stares at Harry for a beat too long.

“What?” Harry asks. “Have I got flour on my face again?”

She searches his face a bit, “No, but something is different.”

Harry furrows his brows.

“You look lighter, happier.” Harry’s phone dings loudly from his pocket and a smile creeps onto his face. Louis had been live texting him Top Chef. He tended to send selfies of angry faces if Harry didn’t reply fast enough to his live texts of TV shows he watches (he got a particularly cute one of scrunchy-faced Louis when Harry didn’t respond to his update about The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills quickly enough for his liking, but Harry has quickly learned that Louis-time really means the second you receive the text). It seems like Louis always needs to have someone’s attention. His phone dings two more times. Harry’s smile widens a bit, he probably got at least two selfies. He loves Louis’ selfies.

“Oh my God!” Lou slaps his arm across the case, “You’ve got a boy!”

Harry chokes out a forced laugh. “What? No I don’t.”

Lou gives him an unimpressed look before rolling her eyes. “Please. You’re grinning way too much for this to be your typical good mood. Spill.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” he lies. In reality, there’s a whole lot he could tell her. About how Louis laughs at his jokes and sends him selfies and updates him on his TV shows and has a whole game going on his show just so he can find out more about Harry. He could tell her all those things, and more, but… This thing with Louis is - it’s new. And he’s not really ready to share him yet.

Harry sighs, pulling a chocolate croissant from the case and passing it over to Lou, crumbs falling from the waxed paper. “It’s new,” he admits, “so I don’t want to get ahead of myself. But I like him.”

Lou smiles at him and pulls a piece of the croissant off, popping it into her mouth. “So what does he do?”

Harry pauses. “He works in… Communications. Radio stuff.”

Lou hums around the croissant and doesn’t press for more information, which is a huge relief because he doesn’t really know how to explain he has a flirting relationship with a radio DJ whose voice he may or may not have gotten off to once. Or twice.

“I need to get back to the salon,” Lou says, pulling a few bills from her pocket and passing them over the counter to Harry. “But keep me posted on your boy, won’t you?”

_Your boy_ . Harry likes the sound of that.

He smiles and waves. “Sure. Have a good day. Tell Lux and Tom hi!”

Lou waves back and disappears out the door onto the street. Harry collapses against the food case and takes a deep breath. Slow down, Styles, he thinks. No need to get ahead of himself.

~~~

Louis doesn’t fare much better. Things come to a head two days later for him when Liam physically snatches his phone off the table as it vibrates across the surface for the third time in as many minutes.

“Louis, I love you, but I’m going to kill you,” he says seriously.

“Liam!” Louis all but shrieks, reaching across the table to grab at his phone, but Liam is holding it just out of reach from his spot across the booth.

“Louis, I don’t think you’ve heard a word I’ve said since we got here,” Liam says. “We were supposed to have a night out together, remember?”

Louis instantly feels guilty, the grin he’s had on his face for days dropping a little. “I’m sorry,” he says, sighing. “You’re right.”

Liam rolls his eyes and hands Louis back his phone. “Go ahead.”

“No no,” Louis says, placing his phone face down on the table. “You have my undivided attention.”

Liam actually smirks at that, and Louis feels his face flush. “You look like you’re going to jump out of your seat, Tommo.”

“I’m fine,” he says. He’s really, really not. He’s itching to see what Harry replied, his fingers twitching on top of the table.

“You’re fidgeting,” Liam says.

“I’m fine,” Louis repeats.

“You’re blushing,” Liam points out, and Louis feels his cheeks go darker.

“I’m not blushing,” Louis says, pouting. His phone vibrates again.

A wicked grin spreads across Liam’s face. He rests his chin in his hand as he looks across the table at Louis, just as a plate of nachos is slid between them. “You’ve got it bad,” he sing-songs at him, smirking like mad when Louis averts his eyes. “So bad.”

“I do not!” Louis protests, but he knows it’s a lost cause. His poker face was shit to begin with and completely breaks when Liam starts smiling at him in earnest. “I have it a little bit.”

Liam laughs, a full-body chuckle ripping through his body, and he runs a hand through the quiff precariously sprayed on top of his head. “I’m happy for you, man.”

“Thanks,” Louis says, bashful. And since when does Louis Tomlinson get _bashful_?

“I don’t think I’ve seen you stop smiling in over a week,” Liam says.

Louis shrugs, self-conscious but feeling his cheeks start to hurt from grinning so much.

“He’s… He’s nice. He makes me laugh,” Louis says. “I didn’t expect this at all but it’s good. Really good.”

“I should hope so, considering you can’t stop looking at your phone every time he texts,” Liam teases, but there’s no malice behind it. “Seriously, it’s gross.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Excuse me, Liam, but between the two of us, who was it that took out a sky writer?”

Liam narrows his eyes. “You swore you’d never bring that up again.”

Louis laughs, satisfied. “So leave me alone about Harry, Payno.” He subconsciously reaches for his phone to see what Harry says when Liam slaps the table.

“See!” Liam says, grinning from ear to ear. “You can’t help yourself and you don’t even realize it! I never thought I’d see the day that Louis Tomlinson was absolutely smitten over a boy.”

“Smug doesn’t suit you, Liam,” Louis says, but he looks at his phone anyway. Three messages from Harry.

_“Scale of 1 to 10, how weird is a request for a chocolate cupcake with orange literal orange frosting?”_

_“Pretty fucking weird, right?”_

Then, a picture of a cupcake that looks like it’ll probably taste like shit even though Harry made it, because there’s only so much one can do with that combination.

Louis texts back “ _pretty sure whoever ordered that is gonna poison someone_ ” and doesn’t notice Liam smirking at him from across the table until he puts his phone back down.

“What?” Louis asks, though he knows what’s coming.

Liam pierces a jalapeno from the plate of nachos and points his fork at Louis. “Smitten.”

Louis busies himself with piling his plate with nachos and takes a swig from his beer, feeling warm under the overhead light and he knows his cheeks are on fire.

“Do you want to tell me about the Yay or Nay game, then?” Liam asks, and when Louis looks up Liam is fixing him with a knowing, albeit cocky, smile.

“Not really,” Louis says, digging into the nachos.

“You come up with that game out of nowhere, and it’s going over shockingly well with listeners, and you really want to pretend like it had nothing to do with Harry?” Liam asks, stabbing at a nacho with his fork, breaking it in half.

“Yup,” Louis says, looking away towards the bar to see the footie game on the TVs above the counter. Maybe Liam will drop it.

“Listeners love to feel like we’re actually listening to what they want,” Liam says. Or maybe not. “And sometimes we can but sometimes we can’t, and you’ve hit on this totally random, easy way to get people interested in the mornings, and you want to play like you came up with that idea out of the blue?”

Louis shrugs. “It’s working, so what difference does it make?”

Liam lets out an incredulous laugh. “It matters because you're flirting via airwaves, Louis,” he says, “and acting like it’s no big deal, but I haven’t seen you like this since… Ever, actually. I’ve never seen you like this over anyone.”

It’s true, because it’s been a really, really long time that Louis has felt this. Not just a like for someone, because there are plenty of people he likes, and there are plenty of guys he’s been interested in casually. But none of them make him feel like there’s sun flowing through his veins. Louis can’t remember the last time a guy made him smile so much, laugh so hard, and make such an effort. He knows Harry likes him, at least as a friend, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like he’s won the lottery every time Harry sends him a string of laughing emojis.

The thing is Louis still hasn’t heard his voice, and that’s something that hits him right there in the middle of the pub.

Louis hasn’t spoken to Harry yet.

He needs another drink.

“Was that too much information?” Liam looks at Louis with those big embarrassed eyes, blush high on his cheeks and Louis has no clue what he's talking about.

“What are you on about?” Louis asks Liam.

Liam stares at him. “I was comparing your look to when I first met Sophia and then how nervous I was about-”

Louis cuts him off, waving his hands wildly. “Shots!” he calls out, “Liam, my dear boy, let’s toast to you and Sophia and whatever you weren’t going to tell me because I don’t want to know!”

Three rounds of shots later, Louis and Liam are laughing hysterically playing pool. Louis counters every mention of Harry with a mention of Sophia’s long legs, mostly because it makes Liam very flustered but also because it takes the heat off of him for a moment. By the time Liam declares it’s time to go home because Louis has to work in the morning, Louis is pleasantly buzzed and happy.

When the cold air hits them outside, Liam brings Louis into a hug. “I’m happy for you mate, really,” he mutters, slapping him on the back.

Louis squeezes back a little tighter.

He’s only 2 blocks into his walk home before the urge to hear Harry’s voice overwhelms him again. He pulls the collar of his jacket up around his neck a little to fight against the bite of the wind and hums as he walks, determined to get home and in bed before he does something stupid.

He gets two more blocks before imagining Harry’s voice is just not enough, and he can’t stop thinking about it. He vowed he wasn’t going to do anything stupid, but he’s buzzed, alone, and desperate to know what Harry Styles sounds like. He pulls out his phone and holds down on the contact until the screen lights up with the words Calling Harry Styles.

Louis’ heart races, his finger still hovering over the screen.

“Shit!” he curses, hanging up. He shouldn’t have just called him like that. He should have asked. What if Harry doesn't want to talk to him? He already hears his voice enough during the day. It’s also late and Harry has to be up for work. He’s probably in bed. Louis probably just woke him up and now he’s probably pissed. Louis is just about to slam his head on the sidewalk for being a fucking idiot when he gets an incoming call.

His heart jumps to his throat so fast he has to swallow it down. Oh, shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

He can’t very well ignore him, can he, not when he called him first. He breathes in deep before accepting the call.

Louis bites down on his lip so hard he thinks he’ll draw blood, trying to keep himself quiet and his heartbeat regular.

“Hello?” the deepest voice Louis has ever heard in his life asks. “Louis?” Louis stops walking, practically swooning at the smooth voice calling his name. His heart keeps pounding and he already feels a smile take over his face. It makes him warm all over.

“Louis?” Harry calls one more time, and oh. Louis should probably reply. That’s what a normal person would do.

Louis jumpstarts, his feet and mouth suddenly moving again. “Hi,” his voice cracks, and he coughs, almost missing Harry’s sigh of relief.

“Hi Lou,” Harry’s voice is soft, so unbearably soft, like he’s lying in bed, curled up and warm. Louis immediately feels guilty.

“I’m sorry for calling late.”

“It’s okay, Lou. What’s going on? You shouldn’t be awake either, should you?”

Louis looks up at the streetlights, trying to contain his smile for this sweet, sweet boy.

“I went out to the pub with my mate Liam, he’s another DJ from the radio. I was just walking home.”

Harry yawns through the phone. “Bit late to be leaving innit?”

Louis smiles, “Yeah I guess. You’re in bed then?”

“Yeah, the heating isn’t working well in my flat, so I’m about 6 blankets deep.”

Louis pulls his coat around him a little tighter, imagining Harry curled up in bed, blankets drawn tight around him, dark curls splayed over his pillows as he cocoons himself deep into his covers. “That sounds nice right about now,” he replies, just as a particularly vicious gust of wind pulls at his fringe, cutting into his forehead.

“You almost home?”

“Yeah, just one more block.”

“Good,” Harry pauses, and Louis can hear him breathing down the line. “Knock, knock.”

Louis almost trips. He blames it on a crack in the sidewalk and the shots from earlier, but it’s really because Harry is too adorable for words. How is this boy, this man, even real right now? “Who’s there?”

“Boo.”

“Boo who?” Louis has heard this joke at least 100 times in his lifetime, at least half of them from his little sisters, and he cannot think of a time when he actually smiled like the sun was shining down on him and didn’t roll his eyes.

“Aw, don’t cry it’s only a joke!” Harry cries out and Louis tries and fails to not be completely endeared.

Louis chuckles, shaking his head. “Thank you for that.”

“Now you home?” Harry asks around another yawn. “You've got to be up with me in the morning.”

Louis ignores the “with me” because that’s a thought he will only be able to tackle when sober. The warm air of Louis’ complex hits him as he opens the door. “Just walked in the building.”

“I'll wait until you're in bed.”

Louis blushes, “Nah, you should go to bed, Harold.”

“You should know that's not my name, Lewis.”

Louis grins and walks down the empty corridor to his flat, barely feeling the draft with Harry’s voice surrounding him like a hug. Louis unlocks the door to his flat. “I'm in my flat,” he announces.

“Not good enough.”

Louis laughs incredulously. “Okay I'm walking to my room.”

“Almost there.” Harry’s smile is so apparent through the phone. Louis can almost see the dimples, and now that he’s heard Harry’s voice, it feels like he’s there with him.

“I'm removing my jeans to get into bed,” Louis laughs.

“Sexy,” Harry laughs along with him, his voice scratchy and soft and the best kind of comfortable Louis’ ever heard.

Louis throws off his shirt as well, climbing into bed. He pulls the covers up to his chest and settles back against his pillows, his eyes adjusting to the dark. He should probably brush his teeth, he’ll probably regret it in the morning, but right now Harry is more important.

“I'm in bed now,” Louis says softly. He pauses, then adds, “Just like you.”

He hears Harry shuffle around a bit, like he's snuggling into the covers more.

“Good, I'm glad.” There's a pause. Louis might be imagining it but he swears he hears a hitch in Harry’s breath. “I'm really glad you called.”

Butterflies spread in Louis’ stomach. He barely remembers the nerves he felt when he called less than ten minutes ago. “I really just wanted to, um,” Louis blushes madly, pulling his covers over his head, “hear your voice.”

He might regret that in the morning but he can’t find it in himself to care when Harry giggles sleepily. “I did have one up on you. Hearing your voice everyday.”

“You did. But now we’re even.”

“We are.”

“And you need to go to bed,” Louis playfully scolds him.

“Okay, okay,” Harry’s voice is sweet. “Goodnight Lou.”

Louis bites his fist to keep his smile from splitting his face. “Goodnight Harry.”

He hears the line go dead as Harry hangs up. He drops his phone next to him on his bed and takes a deep breath. His cheeks hurt from smiling and he’s never felt so content. He drifts off to the sound of Harry’s laugh because for the first time he doesn’t have to imagine it.

~~~

Louis begins to realize he needs to get his shit on lock when Lottie hits him in the arm for the second time since she and the rest of his family arrived at his flat an hour ago.

His mum is distracted with Ernie and Doris so he wastes no time in slapping her back. “What the fuck, Charlotte?”

“What are you so happy, about?” she asks, smirking.

Louis shrugs, pointedly ignoring his phone in his pocket and the expectant look his sister is giving him. “Nothing,” he tells her, “don’t worry about it.”

At 21, she is the closest in age to him out of all his siblings, but he is certainly not about to disclose anything about this budding...whatever he has with Harry. They haven’t even seen each other in person yet, for fuck’s sake. Sure, they’ve spoken on the phone every day for hours since Louis drunk dialed him the other night, but that doesn’t mean Lottie needs to know. He glances at her mischievous smile. No. Lottie doesn’t need to know a damn thing.

“Is it a boy?” she asks, fluttering her heavily-mascara’d eyelashes at him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he repeats.

Lottie groans. “I don’t know why you want to be so secretive,” she says. “It’s not like I can’t tell you’re totally gone for a guy. You’ve got that smile on your face you only get when you’re getting laid on the regular.”

Louis counts to five inside his head before he lets out a breath. He doesn’t want to tell Lottie he isn’t getting laid on the regular because he and Harry haven’t slept together yet because that would admit that he actually has a...boyfriend, he supposes. Instead, he says, “Before I have to pour acid down my ears to try to unhear that, I think you better mind your own business.”

Lottie laughs. “Louis, come on,” she groans. “It’s not like you’re subtle. What’s his name?”

Louis just shakes his head. Nope. Not going there.

“Fine,” Lottie says, leaning back against the sofa cushions. “But just so you know, you’re totally obvious and I’ve heard every time your phone has vibrated in your pocket. Looks like _someone_ wants your attention.”

“I’m just popular, I guess,” he says. He watches his mum in the kitchen fiddle with Doris’s sweater. His younger brother and sister are whining about going to the toy store like Louis promised them, and he can see his mum starting to get agitated. He gets up from the sofa, leaving Lottie behind, and grabs Ernie around the middle and lifts him into the air. “Hey little man, what’s the problem?”

“Mummy said toy store,” he all but shouts into Louis’ ear, a little fist pounding into his shoulder.

“Hey hey hey,” Louis says, raising his eyebrows. “None of that now. I said maybe we could go to the toy store, but if mum says no she says no.”

“But toy store!” Doris yells from below.

Louis drops down to his knees so he’s level with his sister, shooting his mum a quick wink. “If you guys are good throughout lunch and eat _everything_ , yes even the vegetables, I’ll make sure we go to the toy store before we go home.”

Doris looks like she thinks that they might be getting the short end of the deal, but Ernie is already saying, “Yes yes yes, we promise!”

Louis grins and his mum gives him a wide-eyed look, mouthing “thank you” at him. Louis mouths back “you’re welcome” just as Fizzy returns from the bathroom.

“Are we going to lunch now? I’m starving!” she announces to the room.

“Be a dear and go get your sisters from the living room,” Louis’ mum tells her. “We can leave straight away.”

Fizzy rolls her eyes but obeys, wandering into Louis’ room where Lottie is still sitting on the sofa playing with her phone and Daisy and Phoebe are on the floor staring wide-eyed at Legally Blonde playing on the TV.

Louis stands up again, Ernie still attached to his hip, and gives his mum a look. “And you thought it was a good idea to bring everyone down from Donny.”

His mum laughs and picks up Doris, settling her against her side. “Well, you haven’t been up to see us, so I thought I’d bring the fun to you.”

Louis chuckles. “Yeah, well, it’s hard to get away from the station sometimes.”

Louis’ mum purses her lips and nods. “And do you have anything going on other than work?” she asks.

She’s fishing. Louis knows she’s fishing because that’s the look she’s been giving him since he was 15 and came out as gay to her. She wants to know if he has a boyfriend, like he’s still 18 and a boy is hiding in the cupboard or summat. He wants to tell her he has a Harry, but not right now, and definitely not when his younger siblings, especially Lottie, can hear him.

He adjusts Ernie on his hip and gives her a blank look. “Can we talk about this later?” He pointedly looks in the direction of his living room where Fizzy is trying to round up Daisy and Phoebe and Lottie is being no help.

Jay nods and gives him a small smile. “Of course, love.” She pauses, then adds, “And thank you for having us.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Mum, please. Like I’d say no.” It’s true. Since he moved to London for uni he hasn’t been home very much, barring a three-month stay after graduation where he did odd jobs around Doncaster to get enough money to pay for his first month’s rent in a flatshare. He misses his mum and siblings, and his stepdad as well, though Dan was unable to make the trip after having come down with a stomach virus. It’s not like Louis’ flat is all that big, but it’s big enough to put his family up in for the weekend.

The only trouble is that being with his family has only made it abundantly clear to him just how much time he spends waiting to hear from Harry. Sure, he’s been a bit distracted, but that only makes it worse when he can’t just pull out his phone to see any new messages. Lottie caught on right away and Louis hates her for being so perceptive, because it seems like no one else has noticed. Not even the twins with all of their sage teenage wisdom about relationships that Louis most definitely does not want to hear. His little sisters are going to be little forever, okay.

It takes another ten minutes before the Tomlinson/Deakin clan makes it out of Louis’ flat, bundled in coats and, on Lottie, an interesting hat choice. Louis had suggested they all go to lunch at a nearby sandwich shop, a place he’d taken Liam a few times when he crashed at Louis’ place and always raved about the carved turkey. He knows it’ll be a good place for his younger siblings who are notorious picky eaters, and Fizzy can get something vegetarian since apparently she doesn’t eat meat now.

Ernie and Doris do actually eat all of their food, so Louis leads the family to a toy store two streets over. Lottie, Fizzy, Phoebe, and Daisy all take off for the Sephora across the street, leaving Louis and his mum to push into the crowded shop and let Ernie and Doris explore.

It’s as they’re hovering behind the twins checking out a Lego display that Louis’ mum clears her throat. “So,” she starts, the absolute epitome of subtlety. “What is it you wanted to talk about?”

Louis laughs, rubbing a hand over his face. He observes his younger siblings pointing at all the different boxes of Legos on the shelves and sighs. “It’s a bit complicated,” he admits. “And crazy.”

“Is that so?” Jay asks. “Try me.”

Louis takes a deep breath. “I’ve been...talking to someone,” he tells her. “It’s pretty recent, but I really like him.”

His mum turns to him, her eyes lit up. “But that’s wonderful!” she says. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Louis tells her. “I just…we haven't met in person yet?” Louis lets out a laugh, his mother’s eyebrows raising. “He Tweeted to the station about something random and we just started talking on there. Then he gave me his number and we’ve been texting. I only just talked to him on the phone this past week. He’s funny and smart, and so cute. He owns a bakery with his childhood best friend. It’s going so well so far. But I’m…”

“You’re…?” his mum prods when he trails off for her too long.

“I just hope that I’m not going too fast, you know? Like, I like him but I don’t want to scare him off by coming on too strong. I really want to meet him in person but I don't know if that's something he wants or not.”

“Have you asked him?” Jay asks. “Ernie, do not take that box down!” she yells, just as Ernie starts to pull a box from a shelf.

Louis watches his younger brother recoil at the sound of his mum’s voice and smirks. He knows that feeling quite well. “No, I haven’t,” he admits. “I think I will though. He seems to like me back.”

“Of course he does!” Jay says, turning to look at him seriously. “Louis, I am so proud of you. You’re so smart and have done so well for yourself. I’m sure this boy, uh… What’s his name?”

“Harry,” Louis says, unable to stop the smile that stretches across his lips. “His name is Harry.”

“I’m sure Harry knows how special you are,” Jay says, touching Louis’ cheek. “I think you should go for it. There’s nothing to lose.”

Louis shrugs. “I guess you’re right,” he says, just as three boxes come tumbling down from the shelf where Doris pulled one from the bottom.

~~~

Harry wonders about Louis not responding to his messages as quickly as he usually does, but fortunately Gemma keeps him quite distracted. She’s procured a bottle of Bacardi and has been mixing drinks like a fiend in his kitchen for the last hour. He’s slightly past buzzed and is starting to get tired, but he knows Gemma won't let him bail on their plans.

“So,” she says, coming back to her self-designated lounge chair and sliding a glass of Bacardi and Coke across the coffee table at him. “I was telling mum that I think we should all go away for Christmas. It’ll be so much less stress.”

Harry laughs, taking a sip of the drink. It’s strong, just like all of Gemma’s drinks. He sets it back down on the coffee table. “And I’m sure that went over like a lead balloon.”

Gemma curls up into the chair and rests her own glass on her knee. “If I could get us on a cruise for Christmas this year I would,” she says, “but mum loves her traditional Christmas at home. Plus they’re all sold out. I looked.”

Harry smirks and asks, “Sure this doesn’t have anything to do with your breakup with Lucas and wanting to get as far from London as possible?”

Gemma narrows her eyes. “I am not nearly drunk enough for that conversation, little brother,” she tells him and follows it up with a big gulp from her glass.

Harry picks up his own drink and takes another sip, the rum burning on his tongue. He almost misses her next words.

“So you wanna tell me about Louis Tomlinson?”

Harry chokes on his sip and gives his sister a shocked look. “What?”

“Louis Tomlinson,” Gemma repeats, grinning from ear to ear. She bundles her long hair in a makeshift ponytail behind her head and lets it go, her hair dropping back to her shoulders. “You’ve been talking to him.”

“How could you know that?” Harry asks.

“Uh, because you’ve been Tweeting him, maybe?” Gemma gives a long-suffering look to the ceiling.

Harry blushes, and he knows it’s a lost cause to blame it on the alcohol. “So what?”

Gemma smirks and points her glass at Harry. “You’ve been flirting.”

Harry shakes his head and looks down at the coffee table. It needs a good dusting. “It’s nothing.”

“Please,” Gemma says. “I think we can move past that, don’t you think? Why don’t we talk about how he’s been flirting back?”

Harry’s cheeks burn even redder, which he didn’t think was even possible. “It’s nothing,” he says again.

“Are you dating someone?” Gemma asks. She always was one to get right to the point. “Are you dating someone and not telling me?”

“Louis and I aren’t dating!” Harry exclaims.

“I didn’t say Louis,” she replies, looking altogether way too smug. “But since you brought him up again, what are you two doing exactly?”

Harry sighs. She just swindled him, like always. He touches his right cheek and feels the skin hot beneath his palm. It’s October, but maybe he should put on the air conditioner. Or maybe crack a window. “We’re just talking,” he says. He doesn’t want to say they’re friends because he doesn’t really know if they _are_ friends. “We get along and so we talk sometimes.”

“Sometimes as in all the time,” Gemma says. “Your phone vibrated like three times while you were in the bathroom and his name popped up.”

Harry makes to grab for his phone next to him on the sofa. He doesn’t know if Gemma has amazingly good eyesight or she got up to snoop, but sure enough there is Louis’ name on his lockscreen. He swipes his phone to see the texts.

_“Sorry, been with my family all day. They’re visiting from Donny.”_

Right, Doncaster. Harry remembers seeing Doncaster listed on Louis’ Wikipedia page. With Louis telling stories so frequently, he had forgotten the lived so far. Then, almost a half hour later:

_“I wanted to ask you something. Can I give you a call later?”_

The text came in at 5:53. It’s already almost 6:30. Fuck.

_“It’s okay if you’re busy. Just thought I’d ask.”_

Fuck fuck fuck. Harry ignores Gemma grinning from her place on the lounge chair as he scrambles to reply.

_“Sorry it took so long, I’m with my sister. We were going to get dinner around 8 and then she’s going home, but I’m free to talk after that if you’re available.”_

Available. Way to make this sound like a business transaction, Harry. He's about to pull out his hair honestly.

Harry tacks on a smiling emoji for good measure and presses send. When he looks back up, Gemma is laughing silently in the chair, cradling her drink to her chest.

“God, I knew you had a little crush on him or something from listening to the radio, but this is so much better than I could have imagined,” she tells him.

“It’s not a crush,” Harry says. He knows he sounds petulant but he doesn’t appreciate Gemma making fun of him like this.

Gemma laughs for another second before seeming to realize that Harry is legitimately annoyed. She stands from the chair and plops next to him on the sofa, kicking him in the thigh lightly. “I’m done,” she says. “I won’t say anything else about Louis, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Harry says.

“But for the record,” she says, “I think you two would make a cute couple.”

Harry can’t help the grin that snakes over his face, his cheeks dimpling and his teeth on full display. He holds out his glass to Gemma. “I’ll drink to that,” he says, and the two clink glasses.

~~~

Louis waits until his younger siblings are tucked into bed and Lottie, Fizzy, Daisy, and Phoebe are curled up in the living room with the TV and ice cream to make the call. His mum has graciously left him alone, electing to take a shower before bed, so he slips out onto the small balcony his flat has overlooking the street. It’s almost 11, so he hopes Harry will be done with dinner with his sister by now.

He selects the Harry from his contacts and listens to the dialtone, feeling wind bite at his neck but not really wanting to go back inside to put on a jacket. He blows little gusts of breath from between his lips and watches them disappear into the air. Then Harry answers.

“Hey Lou,” Harry answers, sounding chipper.

“Hey,” Louis says. “I’m not bothering you, right?”

“No no,” Harry says. “I’m home. I got back about a half hour ago actually. Gems and I went to dinner.”

Gems… Gemma. That's right. “Did you have a good time?” Now Louis is just stalling.

“Yeah,” Harry says. “How about you? How is your family?”

“They’re good,” Louis answers. “Me mum brought up my younger siblings from Doncaster and the two older ones came from uni for the weekend.”

“How many siblings do you have, again? I've seen the pictures but I don't think I've counted.” Harry asks.

“Six,” he says, and hears Harry let out an impressed breath. “Lottie, Fizzy, Daisy, Phoebe, Ernest, and Doris.”

“Wow,” Harry says. “Your mum is tough.”

Louis laughs. “You have no idea.”

A silence falls over the conversation. Louis isn’t quite sure how to segue into what he wanted to talk about. He keeps trying to form a sentence, but each one that crosses his brain sounds even lamer than the last.

“So, you wanted to talk to me about something?” Harry asks. His voice is low and scratchy, like he’s been drinking maybe. Louis wants to wrap it around himself like a blanket and fall asleep to it. He’s never heard a voice like Harry’s in his life, all cozy and peaceful but still rugged and deep.

“Yeah,” Louis breathes out, feeling himself start to sweat even in spite of the cold. “I did.”

“Is everything okay?” Harry asks, his voice suddenly alert and concerned.

“Oh, yes!” Louis replies. “Yeah, everything is fine. It’s just… I’ve been trying to figure out a way to say this without sounding like an idiot, but I guess we’re beyond that.”

Harry giggles. “You’re not an idiot, Louis. And you don’t sound like one either.”

Louis smiles, basking in Harry’s voice and the fact that he’s lucky enough for Harry to be giving him the time of day. “You’re sweet,” he says. He doesn’t know it but Harry blushes down the other end of the line.

“So what’s going on?” Harry says, plowing through.

“I was hoping that we could…” he starts. He pauses, then tries again. “I thought sometime, sometime soon, we could get together. In person.”

A beat passes, more than enough time for Louis to panic and start to backtrack. “No pressure, obviously! I just thought, you know, we talk a lot and I think you’re great,” Louis hits his forehead with his hand, great, what an adjective to use, “So I thought we could. If you wanted.”

He’s pondering jumping off his balcony, wondering if he’s high enough for it to kill him or if he’d just end up in A&E, when Harry replies.

“Louis,” he says, a smile in his voice. “Of course we can meet up. You really think I wouldn’t want to?”

“I don’t know,” Louis admits, running a hand through his hair, completely ruining his quiff. Oh well, he’s just going to bed anyway.

“Well, I want to,” Harry says resolutely. “I know we’re both busy and all, but we can make it happen.”

“Okay,” Louis says. “Okay.” Then he starts laughing.

Harry starts laughing too. “Okay, so now that’s out of the way, do you feel better?”

“Yeah,” Louis responds, feeling a grin take over his face. “I’m not usually so weird, I promise.”

“Oh, I listen to you on the radio everyday. You’re definitely usually this weird.”

“Hey!” Louis barks out a laugh. “You listen voluntarily.”

Harry giggles again. Louis thinks it’s just about the best sound he’s ever heard. “I do,” Harry says. “It’s cause you’re my favorite.”

Louis wants to jump off the balcony again, but for a completely different reason. It feels like his blood is fizzing through his veins, his entire body warming. He has to stop himself from giggling as well, wanting to maintain some semblance of dignity, but he’s pretty sure that ship has sailed.

“I aim to please,” he eventually settles on. Then, he lets out a yawn.

“Tired?” Harry asks.

“A bit,” Louis says. “It’s been a while since I saw my family and they can take a lot out of you.”

“I’ll let you go, then,” Harry says. “And Louis?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you asked.”

“Me too.” Louis bites his lip to hold back the smile threatening to take over his face. “Goodnight, Harold.”

Harry laughs Louis’ favorite laugh, the one that jumps out of his throat without his knowledge and takes up the air, echoing in Louis’ ears. “Goodnight Louis.”

When Louis goes back inside his flat, his sisters are right where he left them, though they’re now joined by his mum.

She turns to give him an expectant look, raising her eyebrows and basically asking, “Well?”

Louis smiles brightly, shooting her a thumbs up. The smile that breaks out over her face rivals his own.

~~~

Louis’ eyes are practically piercing holes into his phone screen from how hard he’s staring at it. It’s been a month of Louis and Harry talking, and almost one week since they talked about meeting in person. The only problem is, they still haven’t met yet.

Harry’s been completely overwhelmed with orders at the bakery, and apparently it’s autumn/winter wedding season, so he’s extra busy on cakes orders. He’s told Louis all about all of the combinations clients have requested, gorgeous designs of pastel blue and white to make for an elaborate winter wonderland vibe and very _interesting_ ideas for a Halloween wedding with a tombstone as the cake topper. For Louis’ part, he has had four radio events just this week because Halloween was yesterday (Harry and him positively cooed at the costumes Doris and Ernie wore for Trick or Treating). It’s been a trainwreck of a busy week, and it’s not even over yet.

Liam’s disbelieving voice saying “You still haven’t met him yet?!” is nagging Louis over and over again, since he accidentally let it slip at their Halloween event last night. Louis may or may not have smeared fake blood over his face, kind of wrecking Liam’s Joker costume, just to shut him up.

He knows Harry is on deliveries right now, hell he even knows where and what he’s delivering. But he can’t stop thinking about how long they’ve been talking (it’s now November!) and how he doesn’t even know what Harry looks like when he speaks. That thing where he pushes his hair back over his forehead that he can sometimes hear over the phone, the rustling of his shirt and his hand getting caught in the waves. The way his mouth forms the words, working around the syllables and the slow drawl of his voice. He can hear it all so clearly in his head, but he can’t make the two images work together.

He unlocks his phone and sends a quick text. _“uuuuuuugh, I’m so hungry”_. He then opens up his Twitter app as well, sending a Tweet:

His heart is in his chest, completely unabashed that he’s actually doing this right now. He’s reached this point, after the week they’ve had. He’s desperate. He hopes that Harry is getting his hint.

A text comes through. _“You didn’t eat breakfast this morning?!”_ He can practically hear Harry’s tone, it’s the same as last night when they were on the phone and Louis was having takeout yet again, while Harry finished up billing.

_“Sometimes I forget, not all of us are just sitting around delicious edible food all day….”_ Louis almost winces. That was a little overdoing on the desperate, even for him.

Louis spends the time going crazy with his imagination, trying to picture Harry in the bakery. Maybe he’s covered in flour. Maybe he’s organizing the cases out front. Maybe he’s on his way with a bouquet of flowers and a basket of muffins. Louis shakes his head. Maybe he didn’t see Louis’ text at all. The reply takes a while, but it comes. Harry calls him ten minutes later. Louis puts him on speaker immediately, embarrassingly quick to jump whenever Harry is near. Well, metaphorically speaking.

“Lou, really you don’t have anything to eat?” Louis can imagine his pout perfectly. Louis wants to see that goddamn pout in person. He almost feels bad but he did rush out this morning and now he is kind of hungry after all this talk of food.

“No, I was in a rush this morning.” See, that is true, but he could probably find something in the staff lounge or go to eat on his break in an hour.

“You should have some food though,” Harry pauses, “Maybe-”

It’s at that point that Jade waltzes into his studio. “Louis! Radio1 sent over a breakfast platter for this morning as a Thank You for the festival. You want anything?”

Louis closes his eyes and takes a calming breath. He tries not to scowl.

Harry sounds pleased on the phone. “There you go!”

“Thank you, Jade,” Louis bites out. “I’ll go check it out myself. Thanks though.”

“You’re welcome!” she chirps, bouncing out of the room, not even noticing how her ill-timed generosity completely shot his plan to hell.

“Alright Harold, I need to go eat and go back on apparently.”

He can hear Harry’s smile, “Talk to you later, Lou.”

“Talk to you soon, H.”

When the secretary calls into his studio the next morning for a bakery delivery, Louis’ heart leaps out of his chest. This is it. This is their moment. Harry got his message loud and clear.

He queues three songs and practically runs downstairs. He’s about to run straight into Harry’s arms and kiss the living daylights out of him, ask him how he’s real when he stops short. Standing there is a boy about six years too young and definitely not Harry.

“Hi mate. Joey right?” Louis waves at the boy in front of him, stamping down on his disappointment. Do not be a dick to the intern, Louis, do not.

“Yeah!” The kid hands him his boxes enthusiastically. “Harry couldn’t deliver today. Big wedding tomorrow and the bride just decided she wanted to change the cake design completely. Called at 5 am on the dot.”

Louis tries not to let his disappointment and concern for Harry swell. “Better get going to help them then. Thank you very much. What do I owe you?”

Joey shakes his head. “Harry said it was on him,” he blushes, “and he put a note in there too, I think. He made sure I had the address right five times before I even left for deliveries.”

Now it was Louis’ turn to blush. He feels his cheeks pinken and his lips turn up, unable to hold back his grin because Harry is adorable and thoughtful and how did he stumble into Louis’ life like this. He reaches into his pocket and hands him a few quid anyway. “Thank you. I gotta get back now too. Good luck!”

Joey waves, “Bye Louis!”

The secretary raises her eyebrows to Louis when Joey is out of view.

“Oh, be quiet!” he snaps and rolls his eyes.

Louis runs back to his studio. He sets the pile of small boxes on the table next to his microphone. There is a breakfast quiche, chocolate chip muffin, and a cookie. It’s still warm, somehow, and the best thing Louis has smelled in the longest time.

He opens the note that’s resting at the bottom of the first box:

_Louis,_

_Don’t forget to pack a lunch for yourself ever again. I hope you like this. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I wish I could have been. Soon, I promise. Call me later._

_xx Harry_

Louis is assaulted by the realization that this is Harry’s handwriting. In the weeks he’s been talking to him, he’s never actually seen it. It’s slanted and lanky, harsh lines like he pressed really hard on the paper as he wrote. It suits him, because even though Harry is anything but harsh, the writing is focused and attentive and Louis feels fondness prickling in his chest. He runs a finger over the letters once, almost feeling the indent of the paper, before he takes a breath and steels himself. He needs to get it together.

He pulls out his phone, _“Was hoping I would have gotten some pretty curls to deliver me these yummy treats. :(“_

He eyes the text before sending another one off, _“But I understand bridezillas and their cake needs. Good luck today love don’t work too hard. Thank you Harry.”_

Harry sends him back a string of x’s and emojis with angry faces.

After eating the best food he’s possibly ever had in his life, Louis texts Harry telling him just that. Harry’s replies are spotty at best for the rest of day, but Louis sends him stories from his day. Like the caller who told Louis he’d be great in a drag show they were hosting that weekend, the girl hiding a hamster in her jacket on the tube, and the Chinese takeout man who judged him for being there for the second time that week. It’s Harry’s random assortment of emojis, mostly laughing ones, that get Louis through the rest of his day.

~~~~

Harry pulls off all his clothes and climbs into bed.

He stares at the phone for a second or two before deciding to call Louis. He knows it’s late but, he just wants to hear his voice. He tries to support all of his customers and give them the utmost respect but this morning, he was quite frankly really annoyed with the bride he had. He was supposed to meet Louis, he’d planned the whole thing the previous day when he saw Louis’ Tweet about the chocolate chip muffin. He wanted to meet Louis, but that damn bride… Harry thought Niall was going to light her veil on fire. Or maybe stab her with her own stiletto. Harry wouldn’t put it past him; he’d seen it before at a wedding he did a cake for when the maid of honor attacked a fellow bridesmaid over a mutual ex-boyfriend.

Louis picks up on the fourth ring, “Hi H,” he answers sleepily.

“Hi love. Sorry,” Harry whispers. “Just wanted to say goodnight, and that I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver anything myself. I really wanted to.”

Louis’ voice is as sweet as honey, soft and tinny through the phone. “I know. It’s okay. Soon right?” Louis pauses for a second, concern in his voice, “How was today? Joey said the bride changed everything last minute.”

Harry tells Louis all about the bloody bride and her bloody cake choices (apparently a three tiered chocolate and vanilla cake just wouldn’t do, and she wanted to expand it to five tiers and somehow incorporate toasted coconut and almond layers), and how Niall threatened to put cake dye all over the box so it bled through onto her table setting. Louis listens intently, laughing at Harry’s obvious distaste. Even threatens to ruin her wedding day just for him. Harry tries not to swoon at such a ridiculous claim.

“So what’s your schedule for this weekend look like?” Louis asks coyly and Harry tries not to groan. He really can not take this week any longer. With the amount of work he’s had, and with Gemma and Niall asking him every third day if he’s getting laid, he’s about to scream.

“Tomorrow is finishing all the prep for this weekend, and then this weekend has three weddings, and three other big events,” Harry fists his hands in his hair. His stress level is extremely high. This is going to be the worst three days of his life.

“Oh,” Louis’ voice sounds a little small. “That’s a lot of work.”

“I know,” Harry’s voice mirrors Louis’, “I really am not looking forward to it at all.”

“Does it always get this busy?” Louis asks.

No, it’s like the universe hates me, is what Harry wants to say. Instead he says, “Sometimes, with weddings and events they pile up on big weekends. Especially during this time of year, lots of weddings and birthdays.” He waits a moment then adds, “Bit inconvenient, isn’t it?”

Louis laughs, like he feels the stress too. “A bit,” he yawns. “You should go to bed Harold. Busy weekend. I don’t want you to be too stressed.“

Harry’s heart flutters at Louis’ concern for him, “Okay, fine. I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m always right Harry, keep up.” He can hear Louis’ smile. “Goodnight Harry.”

“Goodnight Lou.” He pauses, listening to Louis’ breaths. “Soon.” he adds.

“Soon,” Louis replies, and it sounds like a promise.

~~~~

When Louis wakes up on Sunday morning, it’s to his phone ringing loudly. He had spent the night before talking to Harry about the weddings he had gone to. Asking him about the bridezilla, who Niall straight up refused to deliver to. Harry had to take Joey as his assistant. Apparently Niall had used very colorful language when describing her, and Harry didn’t want to risk him calling her a “no good piece of shit” to her face on her wedding day. It had Louis in hysterics. He’s still never talked to Niall, but he can almost hear his rough Irish brogue in his head, cursing up a storm about entitled brides.

“Fuck off Leemo,” Louis rolls over, answering his phone.

“Louis! Thank God you picked up.” Liam’s voice sounds mildly frantic. “Sophia is out of town.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows. “I’m sorry?”

Louis can hear Liam rummaging through things in the background, “She had to go to this modeling event and I forgot that today is my Aunt Gilda’s retirement party. I already paid for a plus one, and since Sophia can’t come I need you to come with me. Aunt Gilda will be pissed if she paid for a plate that no one is going to get.”

Louis throws his head back onto the pillow. “She’s a bit cheap isn’t she?”

“Please Louis, I need you to come with me,” Liam pleads. Louis hears something drop in the background, like a plastic bottle.

Louis’ only answer is a groan into his pillow.

“There will be an open bar,” Liam offers, and Louis can practically see the cheeky smile on his face.

Louis smiles sweetly. “What time should I expect you to pick me up, darling?”

Liam laughs. “I’ll pick you up at 3:30. It’s at the Plaza, so dress appropriately please. Don’t want Aunt Gilda kicking you out.”

“If there’s an open bar, I’m sure she’ll be kicking us both out.”

By the end of dinner, Louis is (mildly) drunk. And Liam doesn’t seem much better. He had spent the day watching baking shows, imagining it was Harry on the screen, and checking Harry’s Instagram every once in awhile to keep an update on how his busy weekend was going. They had been keeping a tab of how many more events Harry had until his weekend was over. Louis couldn’t remember how many were left.

“Louis, be a dear and grab me another drink.” Aunt Gilda quite frankly threw a rager for her retirement, and Louis was surprised about how much he liked her. She was almost drinking him under the table, along with most of her guests. Half the people were drunk off their ass, and she was requesting more booze every fifteen minutes. Not just beer, either. Hard, top shelf liquor. Liam had said this event was spared no expense, and Louis is beginning to think he’s been hanging with the wrong crowd if these are the types of parties retirees throw.

“Got it, Aunt Gild,” Louis slurred back at her, winking. Liam looked on, horrified. Louis had taken to calling her that almost as soon as they entered the banquet hall. Aunt Gilda had laughed and told Louis that he was her new favorite.

Louis wondered where Aunt Gilda worked. He’s in the middle of walking to the bar when he notices the cake that’s sitting next to the buffet. The waiters must have just put it out when people finished up eating.

He stares at the cake for a moment. The three tiers, the pink glitter, the loopy handwriting saying Happy Retirement. He asks the bartender for two cosmos and a pint, and then fumbles with his phone.

He opens his camera and takes a picture sending it to Harry with the caption, _“did yuo make this cake ???????????#@@?????”_

He’s still staring at the cake as he pockets his phone. A cough from across the bar grabs his attention, and his drinks are sitting on top. He grabs his drinks from the bartender, ignoring his judging stare. He’s getting paid to pour drinks, not have an opinion.

When he sits back down, he hands Liam and Aunt Gilda their drinks.

“Got you another cosmo, Lima Bean.”

Liam swats at him. “Go fuck yourself Tommo.”

“Our mother used to call Liam Lima Bean,” Aunt Gilda says wistfully, staring off into space. Liam looks like he’s about to throw his drink at Louis while Louis grins like the Cheshire cat, all smug happiness at learning this new bit of information about Liam.

Louis takes a sip of his cosmo and pulls out his phone to see 3 texts from Harry. _“I did make that cake.”_

_“Wait are you at that party?????”_ Louis’ heart drops into his stomach.

_“I was just there at 4. :( :( :(“_

Louis slams his head down on the table causing his cosmo glass to shake precariously, a few drops of liquid spilling over the side.

“Louis!” Liam shouts.

Louis looks up at Liam, and points a finger at him. “You!” he mutters accusingly.

“What did I do?” Liam squeaks.

“You were ten minutes late to my apartment because you needed to walk your dog. Harry delivered that cake. I could have met him! You piece of shit.”

“You know the baker?” Aunt Gilda cuts in. “The one with the curls? He was so handsome,” she tacks on unnecessarily. Louis is about to slap an old woman.

Liam’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know. Oh God.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “I will get you back for this Liam. I will get you back.” He grabs his drink and knocks back a few swallows, irritations simmering underneath his skin.

He texts Harry, _“this is all leemos fault i am very upset right now harold ……...i don’t even know aunt gilda and she said you were vry handsom i want to see yr curls”_

_“Soon Lou...soon. Are you drunk?? Make sure Liam gets you home safe. Text me as soon as your home so I know you’re safe.”_

Louis waves the phone in front of Liam. “He’s so wonderful, he told you to get me home safe. He cares about me.”

Liam follows the phone with his eyes and then replies. “Stop waving it! I’m getting woozy.”

Louis switches over to water, placing a glass in front of Liam. Liam’s mother will have to drive them home.

~~~~

Monday morning brings Harry on edge. He’s missed meeting Louis twice, and he knows that the day is going to be full of catching up from the complete and utter stress of the past four days. He’s almost relieved to be doing inventory today, but he knows it will just stress him out even more.

He knows Louis got home safe last night, but it’s still a relief to hear him on the radio.

“So this morning’s topic is sex,” Louis’ voice booms through his speaker, cheerful and loud as always. Harry’s eyes widen. “We’re talking best, worst, and/or craziest sexual encounter. I want to hear them all. It’s Monday morning, everyone. We have to have something exciting to wake us up.”

Harry’s grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“Call in, Tweet, or email me at Louis at metroradio dot co dot uk. We’re going to take a short break, but when we come back I’m going to share some of your stories. In honor of our theme of the day, here is our Yay or Nay song.” The jingle plays loudly. “This is Ed Sheeran’s cover of Dirrty by Christina Aguilera.”

Harry barks out a laugh. The song is exactly what he needs after his week, and Louis knows that. His heart becomes three sizes too big.

Harry drops off his first two orders laughing at Louis’ responses to people’s worst sexual encounters, including a foot fetish, and a guy who accidentally slept with his roommate’s brother while drunk (he wonders if it was really accidental, though).

Some of the tension starts slipping from his body, but tightens back up as Louis comes back on air.

“Finally, I have found a best sexual encounter story. You guys love to send your worst. So this is from an email, so I’ll read it off right now. To be honest, I haven’t read it first so warning that this might be M for Mature. Here we go. Dear DJ Tommo, I have never had a BDSM relationship before the one I’m currently in now.” Harry’s throat tightens. “I met him at a BDSM club that my friend took me too, claiming she knew someone that I should meet. He was so tall and handsome. Had dark eyes, and dark hair. We didn’t have sex that first meeting. But we discussed our kinks. He asked me about spanking, handcuffs, nipple play.” _Christ_ , Harry pulls over. “All these things that aroused something inside of me, but I had never thought of before. We agreed to meet again at the club another night. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, how he gave me all the control.”

Harry’s hard. Harry is completely 100% hard. He stares at the road ahead of him, trying to concentrate on the cars moving past his completely still SUV. He needs to keep going, he has orders to deliver, but he’s frozen.

“The day came for us to meet and I was so turned on before I even met him again. We went to the room, and we did everything I wanted and then some. I won’t tell you the dirty details, but I’ll tell you there was multiple-” Louis’ voice cuts off as he whistles and Harry’s face is on fire. “I’d encourage anyone to look into BDSM if you’re thinking about it. I love my boyfriend, we’ve been dating for 2 years since that first meeting. Best sex I’ve steadily had in my life. Needed to share.”

Louis let’s out a breath on the air, matching Harry’s. “That was from an anonymous listener. Well I probably should have screened that one,” he laughs nervously, “but keep the stories coming, and try to keep them PG! We’re going to take a quick break, and then we’ll be back with some more sex stories. This is Bastille with Flaws.”

The radio cuts to the song and Harry wants to scream. Scream because he’s hard as a rock in his jeans, the denim cutting into his cock just this side of _too much_. He has a whole bunch of deliveries to make and he needs to exit his SUV to do them, and he can’t very well stroll into a bank with a raging hard on. But Louis…

Louis’ fucking _voice_ as he read that email. Harry could swear he heart Louis’ breath hitch when he read off about nipple play. Honestly, Louis talking about sex on the radio should be illegal. It’s too smooth and seductive and fuck, Harry actually got hard listening to Louis _talk_ about sex. How is he going to handle sex _with_ Louis, if they ever even get that far?

Harry wills his blood to rush in the opposite direction as he checks his mirrors and pulls back onto the road. It’s a few minutes of commercials before Louis is back on the air, and Harry considers turning off the radio entirely but he doesn’t want to miss out on listening to Louis, no matter the topic. Everything Louis shares from that point onward is much more PG, so Louis probably started screening everything more carefully before he read them off. Still, listening to Louis talk about sex on the beach, sex on a park bench, sex in a football stadium bathroom, and one interesting story about a couple who had oral sex in a movie theater does absolutely nothing to make Harry soft. He struggles through the rest of the deliveries, pulling a blessedly long jacket from his backseat that mostly covers his crotch as he delivers boxes of baked goods to all the businesses on his stop. Louis’ segment on sex is done by the time Harry gets back to the bakery, but Harry is still so hard and aching and his brain is anywhere but on the scones that need to be baked.

When Harry walks into the bakery from the backdoor, Niall is standing in front of a mixer whipping up a batch of whipped cream for a birthday cake. He’s totally oblivious to Harry’s...problem, thank God.

“Hey mate,” Niall greets, not even looking up from the bowl where stiff (ha) peaks are starting to form in the cream (Jesus Christ).

“Hey,” Harry says. “I’ll be right back, I just feel a little...woozy. I’m gonna go throw some cold water on my face.”

Niall glances at Harry at that, concern etched into his forehead. “You okay? You look a bit peaky.”

“Just overheated, I think,” Harry says. It’s not like that’s a lie, anyway, Niall just doesn’t need to know the extent. “Lots of running around. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Niall concedes, and he turns back to the mixer.

Harry all but runs to the staff bathroom next to the office. It’s only a toilet and sink, and it locks. He slams the door shut behind him and twists the lock on the door. He turns on the sink to the highest pressure and practically collapses back against the door. He palms himself through his jeans, the zipper rubbing into his cock and giving him some blissful relief.

He wastes no time as he pulls the zip down, the vibrations running through his cock. He can feel himself start to leak into his pants. He rubs a palm over his cock again, and he groans out at the pressure. He’s so hard, even after all this time. He pulls his pants and jeans just low enough to get his cock out, wrapping a hand around the base and starting to stroke. The precum gathering at the tip drips down the side of his cock, and he uses it to ease the glide of his hand, up and down up and down, tortuously slow.

All he can hear ricocheting in his head is Louis’ voice.

_“Spanking, handcuffs, nipple play.”_

_“The way he controlled me.”_

Harry closes his eyes and has to stifle a groan into his shoulder, his hand starting to work furiously over his cock. His cock is so wet, and he starts to thrust into his hand, pumping himself over and over. He hears Louis’ high voice in his head, imagining him encouraging him as he works himself over. Would he tease him and drag it out? Would he bring Harry to the edge only to pull back at the last second, telling him to wait? Would Louis cont-Harry cuts off that thought with a particularly hard bite to the shoulder. He drags his hand over his cock and whimpers, imagining Louis’ fingers moving over him deliciously slow, coaxing precum from his tip as he sucks on Harry's nipples. He pictures Louis’ stubble catching on his skin as he mouths at his chest. Louis biting, pinching his nipples every time he gets close to the edge. Biting harder when it's just too much.

Harry whines a high-pitched whine at the back of his throat, so close _so close_ as he pumps and thrusts his cock into his hand. He’s not sure if the water running is even disguising what he’s doing, but he doesn’t care. All he thinks is _Louis Louis Louis_.

Harry pictures Louis in front of him. His face is next to Harry’s and it’s Louis’ hand pumping him instead of his own. He whispers in Harry’s ear, breath hot and voice rough, “C’mon, love, come for me,” and it’s all over. Harry comes with a choked shout into his shoulder, biting down so hard he's sure he'll leave marks, come dripping into his hand and through his fingers. He continues to pump his hand over his cock a few more times, beads still dripping from the tip as he comes down. He’s out of breath, his heart pounding, blood running through his veins at warp speed. He’s flushed and his skin feels too hot for his body, too small. He slowly blinks his eyes open and looks down. His cock is red and wet, and his hand is coated in come. He allows himself another minute to bask in the glow of his orgasm, remnants of his fantasy of Louis skittering away.

He steps away from the door and washes his hands in the sink, then grabs a paper towel and wipes his cock. He has to work the rest of the day, after all, and he doesn’t have any spare pants. His face is flushed and sweaty, so he splashes cold water on it, just like he originally told Niall. He prays Niall didn’t hear anything as he unlocks the bathroom and steps out.

When he turns the corner, Niall is actually nowhere to be found. He glances out to the front of the bakery and sees Niall behind the counter, running a credit card through the machine. He takes a breath and goes to the refrigerator to pull out some dough that had been setting overnight.

Five minutes later Niall returns, and Harry is busy kneading the dough on the floured counter.

Niall takes one look at Harry, who’s still a little flushed, and goes, “I’m not even going to ask, Styles.” Then he turns and walks right back out to the front.

Harry can’t help but grin a little to himself, and figures he won this one.

~~~

Harry is sprawled on his couch idly flipping through the channels, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He’s completely on edge after this afternoon. He’s managed to avoid Louis given his busy day with a radio event that night, and he honestly has no idea what to do. Does he tell Louis he got off in the bathroom in the kitchen at work because of him talking about sex? Is that normal? Harry throws his head back, stopping on the Food Network. He puts the TV on mute to ease his mind. That’s so not normal. Louis is going to think he’s insane.

He’s staring at the TV, tense with his nervous energy when his phone rings, breaking up the silence. It’s Louis.

He picks up on the third ring. “H-” Harry starts but then coughs nervously, “Hello.”

“Hi Harold,” Louis chirps. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you all day.” Louis’ voice is so sweet, like he’s already settled in bed.

“I know, we’ve been busy,” Harry swallows, “How was the event? You’re home now?”

“Yeah,” Louis voice sounds far away from the phone for a second, “Sorry just changing so I can be a couch potato before bed. But the event was good. Boss loves the Yay or Nay game. Was raving about it.”

Harry tries not to think about Louis changing. The contrast of his black tattoos to his tan skin, how smooth his skin must be. He shakes his head, “It’s a good game if I do say so myself.”

Louis laughs lightly, “It is,” he pauses, like he’s contemplating, “What about the sex game from earlier?” Harry’s heart races, “Was that too much?”

Harry is silent for a long time, “H?” Louis calls curiously.

Harry clears his throat, trying to think of baking disasters. Bridezillas. Anything to stop himself from getting hard right now. “No,” he says, “No, I don’t think it was too much.”

“I didn’t expect that one letter to be so graphic. I guess I should probably skim through things before I read them out loud on the air.”

Harry is honest to god going to lose it. “Yeah,” his voice is three octaves too high.

Louis is silent. “Are you okay Harry?”

Harry rubs his hand over his face, seriously contemplating getting up and splashing cold water all over himself. “Yeah, I’m,” Harry pinches his thigh, “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” Louis’ voice is soft and raspy, concern flooding through it. Harry can’t stop the words that are about to come out of his mouth.

“Your voice Louis,” he chokes out, staring blankly ahead of him. “You have no idea how much your voice-” he cuts himself off. “It’s a lot. It’s..It’s so much.”

“Harry,” Louis whispers, his voice full of wonder. “Are you...” Louis’ voice trails off.

The moment is entirely too heavy.

“Can I?” Harry practically whimpers, “Please Louis.” Harry’s so hard it hurts and he has no idea how it even got this far.

“Are you,” Louis stops himself, and seemingly composes himself. “Are you hard?”

Harry makes an aborted noise for confirmation. His entire body feels like it’s on fire.

“Are you asking me if you can touch yourself Harry?” Louis’ voice is so sure through the phone. His tone something different than Harry’s ever heard from him. It’s the hottest voice on Louis yet.

“Yes,” Harry whines into the phone, his hand hovering over the bulge in his trackies. “Please Louis, can I?”

“Yes,” Louis breathes out. “Yes, Harry you can touch yourself for me.”

“Oh thank God,” Harry babbles, “Thank you. Thank you.”

“Are you sure you want to do this Harry?” Louis’ tone is soft through the speaker, a moment of pure clarity.

“Yes,” Harry blinks. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “Are you?” He stops his hand from moving over his pants.

“God, yes. I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Louis’ voice is raspy and high, like he just started touching himself as well.

Harry palms himself through his trackies again. His moan is entirely too loud in his empty flat.

“What do you want Harry?” He can hear slight movement under his voice, like he’s just gotten his hand under his pants.

“You,” Harry bites out, rubbing down a little harder, his eyes fluttering shut as he imagines it’s Louis’ hands touching him. “I want you, Louis.” Harry’s hand starts moving a little faster as he rambles, “Been imagining you for so long. Had to get myself off earlier just from your voice. God, Louis.”

“You got yourself off earlier?”

Harry squeezes the base of his cock, “Yes, I had to, it was too much. Your voice was too much.”

“Stop,” Louis demands. Harry freezes. There’s silence for a few seconds, “Is that okay?” Louis’ voice is soft again.

“Yes!” Harry practically shouts at him. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Have you ever...” Louis sounds far away again and Harry can hear him mutter “oh my God” to himself.

“No,” Harry shakes his head, “but I’ve done my research.” Harry nods to himself as if Louis can see, “You can keep going. I’m okay with this if you are.”

He hears Louis breathing heavily. “Okay,” he says more to himself, then addresses Harry, “Okay.” Harry’s hand is frozen still, “Are you in your bedroom?”

“No,” Harry answers quickly.

“Go to your room. Get the lube.”

Harry’s heart races, his palms sweating.

“Are you going?” Louis asks again, his voice direct.

Harry gets to his feet quickly, “Yes. I’m going.”

“Situate yourself on the bed for me babe. Then I want you to finger yourself. Slowly. Don’t touch your cock while you do it.”

Harry groans. Louis is going to be the death of him. He clatters around his bedside drawer for a moment, trying to find the lube. When he finally gets to it, he grabs it quickly, climbing onto the bed.

“Do you,” Harry places his phone on speaker, putting it down on his pillow, “Should I be naked?”

Louis lets out a breath, “Yes. Take off your clothes.”

Harry strips quickly, laying his face down on the bed, ass up, his phone right beside his head. He can hear Louis’ anticipation in his breaths. Harry wonders if Louis can tell how eager he is for it through the phone.

When he finally gets a finger inside of himself, the moan echoes off the walls. Louis’ is just as loud.

“Wish I could see you like this. Sprawled out and naked for me.” The glide of Harry’s finger gets a little smoother, the tip of his cock pressed into the sheets. Louis must be able to hear his breaths get shorter. “You’re doing so well babe.”

Harry preens at the praise, his finger moves a little faster to match his heaving chest and rapid heartbeat.

“Need more Lou,” Harry whines.

“Okay baby, add another.” Harry quickly obliges, the stretch burning, his moans getting a little breathier. “Feels good doesn’t it?”

Harry nods into the pillow. “Feels so good,” he mumbles, pleased. He can hear Louis’ leisurely stroking himself, as he rocks back onto his fingers. “Want another,” he pleads after a few moments, the burn of two fingers just not enough. He wants to feel full, imagines it's Louis’ fingers inside of him stretching him open and thrusting deep.

“You can add another darling.” Goosebumps rise all over Harry’s body. “Go ahead love.”

Harry adds another finger rocking back onto all three fingers, trying to find his spot. His cock is leaking all over the sheets, the tip barely brushing the surface and he needs some relief. When he finds his spot, he cries out.

“Please Louis,” he moans into the pillow, as he hits his spot and then goes a little shallower, teasing himself. His curls are matted to his forehead with sweat.

“What do you want baby?”

“Want you to fuck me Lou,” he whines and Louis’ breath hitches. “Want you to hold my wrists behind my back and suck me off.” Harry can hear Louis’ hand moving faster, his movements matching Harry’s fingers.

“Keep talking babe,” Louis’ voice is breathy.

Harry picks up his pace, babbling, “Want to ride you and you to tug on my hair while I do it,” he chokes out and they both groan. “Want you to sit on my face and let me eat you for hours, until you can’t take it anymore.”

Harry can hear Louis’ breath start to stutter before he whines high in his throat. Harry knows he’s just came, can tell by way his breathing halts. The thought has Harry sweating. “Touch yourself,” he pants out, voice low trying to push Harry over the edge too. “Imagine it’s me touching you. I’d touch you everywhere.” Harry pulls his fingers out, wrapping his hand around his cock, sighing in relief. “Want to kiss you everywhere. Your neck, your torso, your hips. God, your hips. Got hard looking at that picture of you.” Harry’s breaths come in huffs as he pumps himself faster, his fingers slick with lube and precum, white hot heat spreading throughout his body. “Can’t wait to get my mouth on you.”

Harry comes.

Two beats pass.

They start giggling.

“Oh my God,” Louis laughs, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Harry wipes his hair out of his face and sits up. “I’m literally covered in come and sweat.”

Louis cackles. “So am I.” He pauses, “Did you really get off to my voice earlier?”

Harry blushes. “I did. In the bakery bathroom. Don’t tell Niall, please. Though I think he might suspect.”

Louis gives a shocked laugh. “I thought you were just talking shit!”

“No!” Harry whines embarrassed, “I really did! Does that mean you were taking the piss when you said you got hard looking at my picture?”

“Are you kidding me Harold? Have you seen that picture? Of course I was hard. Look at you babe,” Louis sounds affronted.

Harry reaches over to his nightstand to grab a baby wipe to clean himself off. “Are you sure all of this was okay? I know we never talked sexual preferences,” Harry trails off.

“I loved it. Every single second of it. Don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on in my life. We can discuss how far we want to go with this though. Think that’s necessary.”

Harry nods, “Yeah, I’ve never with anyone. It’s just..”

“Always wanted it? But it never felt right with anyone else?” He can hear Louis’ smile.

“Yes!” He flails a bit, a bit taken aback. It's like Louis just pulled the words right from his brain.

“Yeah,” Louis says softly. “Me too.”

Something warm settles in Harry’s chest. “I guess we’re a match then.”

Louis giggles, “I guess we are Harold.”

He hears Louis move around. “It’s 10:30. We should head to bed. Don’t want you to be all grumpy kitten at the bakery tomorrow.”

Harry scoffs, “I am not a grumpy kitten.” He glances at the time. “I guess we should go to bed though.”

“Goodnight Harry.” Harry can hear Louis moving the covers.

“Goodnight Lou. I-”, Harry stops himself before pulling the covers down and just blurting the words out, “I really like you Louis.”

Louis is quiet for a moment. “I really like you Harry.” His voice sounds like sunshine. “Goodnight love.”

“Goodnight Lou,” Harry hangs up. He falls asleep with a smile.

~~~

The next couple of days pass and Harry only talks to Louis through texts. He’s feeling a little self-conscious about what they did on the phone, but Louis seemed to enjoy it so he puts it out of his mind.

Fortunately Harry is as busy as ever. The bakery caters a school luncheon the day following his and Louis’...escapade on the phone. Louis sends him funny texts throughout the day to keep him smiling, jokes about callers that Harry didn’t hear and he tells him about the upcoming event the radio will be at. It’s a street fair and Louis will be in the booth for a couple of hours, but he wanted to know if Harry would be interested in joining him after his shift was over. It sounds like a date. Their first one, too. Harry doesn’t waste time in saying yes.

The day after that, Louis’ texts are a little more sporadic. He tells Harry that he’s been doing a lot of planning for upcoming shows with his boss and is a little stressed. The next day, a basket of muffins arrives for Louis at the Metro studio.

Things get strange the day after that, though. Harry hops into his Range Rover and pulls his beanie down over his ears, the early November air sharp against his exposed skin. His car has been idling for ten minutes while he and Niall loaded the boot, so it’s warm inside at least. As he pulls out onto the street, he turns on the radio, excited to hear Louis’ voice.

Only Louis’ voice isn’t the voice ringing out to him through his speakers.

“...don’t think we’ll be playing Yay or Nay this morning, folks,” says the host. “Definitely don’t want to take that away from Tommo, it’s his baby. Hope you all understand.”

Harry’s eyes are wide and he grips the steering wheel tight, his knuckles going white. Where is Louis? Is he okay?

“In case you missed it earlier, I’m Liam, your host for this morning as Tommo isn’t here.” Oh, okay. It’s Liam. Harry feels a little bit of his nerves dissipate. If anything was wrong, then Liam wouldn’t sound so cheerful. Liam’s one of Louis’ best friends. “If you listen in on the weekends you’ll usually find me here, but Tommo wasn’t able to make it in today for some personal reasons. So, instead you get me!”

Personal reasons? What personal reasons? Louis never mentioned anything going on. Nothing that would make him miss work. Harry feels little pricks of anxiety in his belly as he drives to his first stop. He keeps the radio on to listen to Liam. He’s funny and energetic, and there’s a kindness in his voice that Harry immediately likes. He’s friendly with callers and generous with taking requests.

He isn’t Louis, though. And Harry misses listening to him.

Harry trudges through his deliveries without a moment to text Louis to see if he’s okay. He’s on a tight schedule, and he doesn’t want to be late with any of his deliveries. Every time he hops back into his car, Liam’s voice is calling out to him. It’s nice, but it’s not the same.

The early morning darkness gives way to rain and clouds, and that seems pretty fitting for Harry’s mood. It’s a typical London day, of course, but maybe the universe understands how Harry feels. Little drops of rain land on his windshield as he drives the streets, and they’re coming down soft but persistent when Harry returns to the bakery. He pulls around back, backing into his usual spot next to the dumpster and loading dock. He pulls at his beanie, fidgety and irritable as he fights against the cold and rain to get into the bakery through the back door.

Joey is at the counter with baking sheets lined with parchment paper, a scoop in hand as he drops chocolate chip and walnut cookies onto them by the dozen. He smiles when he sees Harry walk in. “Hi Harry,” he greets.

“Hey, Joey,” Harry replies, shucking off his jacket and hanging it and his beanie on a coat rack. “Where’s Niall?”

“Up front,” Joey says, grinning. He looks very happy, Harry notices. Too happy. Joey isn’t unpleasant in the mornings, but he’s a little too chipper. Harry is suspicious.

“Y’alright?” Harry asks. “You seem really...enthusiastic.”

Joey shrugs and keeps dropping dough onto the sheets. “We got our grades back on our practical yesterday for my one pastry class,” he answers, “and I got an A!”

Harry’s face lights up with a toothy grin. “That’s awesome, man! Congratulations!”

“Thanks!” Joey says, just as Niall comes through the door from the front of the bakery.

“Hey Haz,” Niall says. He brushes a piece of dark blonde hair from his face. “There’s a customer out front who has a question about doing some gluten free brownies for a party. That’s more your thing. Mind going out to talk to them?”

“Sure,” Harry says. He grabs his apron from the hook and begins to tie it on. As he passes Joey he claps him on the shoulder. “I’m really proud of you, Joey.”

Joey shrugs and says. “Thanks, Harry.” Then, he glances to the door that leads to the front of the bakery. “You better go out there. You know how people can be finicky about their dietary restrictions.”

Harry laughs. “Right. Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

Niall pinches Harry’s side as he walks past him. Harry laughs and pushes through the door to the front of the bakery. It’s empty, save for one lone figure standing in front of the case.

Louis.

Harry freezes, stopping just far enough from the swinging door so that it doesn’t hit him in the back. His jaw drops, his eyes widening in disbelief. But there he is. He’s in tight black jeans and a pair of scuffed Adidas. He has a blue and white hoodie on, and his hair is all over the place, matted from the rain and his fringe is sticking up at odd angles. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers.

A grin slowly starts to sneak onto Louis’ face as he stands there. “Hi Harold,” he says, holding out the flowers. “I brought you these.”

Harry is still completely frozen in place but he starts to smile back, his eyes glittering and a laugh bubbling in his throat. “Louis! What are you doing here?”

When it becomes clear that Harry isn’t going to move anytime soon, Louis begins walking towards him. “I took the day off,” he answers, like that explains everything.

When he’s directly in front of him, Harry’s senses are assaulted. He never knew how blue Louis’ eyes were, or that he’s a couple of inches shorter than Harry. He smells like sunshine and peppermint. His eyes crinkle when he smiles wide, like he’s doing right now. He’s radiating warmth, and Harry just wants to grab him and never let go.

“I heard Liam on the radio this morning,” Harry says. “I thought something happened. I was going to text you.”

Louis shakes his head, smiling. “I asked Liam to cover for me so I could take the day to come see you. I was so busy planning the shows so he’d have something to work with while I was gone. That’s why I was stressed.”

Harry laughs, finally taking the bouquet from Louis’ hands. Louis’ hands are small, he notices, barely wrapping around the flowers tied off in floral ribbon. He smells roses and carnations, an assortment of colors packed together. “I can’t believe you took off just to come see me,” Harry says. “I just… Are you real?”

Louis laughs, his eyes bright and his voice raspy when he replies, “I don’t know, Harold. I could ask you the same thing. You sent me muffins. Delicious muffins, by the way.”

“I’m real,” Harry replies. He sets the bouquet down on the top of the pastry case and takes another step forward. “Thank you,” he says, and he pulls Louis into a hug.

Louis is warmer than he thought, his skin soft and his hair scratchy against his cheek. His hair smells like lemons and Harry didn’t pick up on that before, but he smells clean and fresh and just so so nice. Harry notices immediately how they fit, one of his arms around Louis’ neck and the other around his waist. Louis mirrors the action, burying his face in Harry’s neck and Harry can feel him smiling against the skin at the base. Harry lets himself have a moment to bask in this, in feeling Louis’ arms around him and hair in his face and his skin against his skin. Then, he giggles and pulls away just slightly.

“Fuck, now I just want to spend the whole day with you.” He pouts a little bit, staring down at Louis chewing on his lower lip. His cheeks are a little flushed and his nose is a little red. “How am I going to let you go, now?”

Louis’ face breaks into a wide grin. “You don’t have to,” he says.

Harry’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I spoke to Niall,” Louis says, his head jerking in the direction of the back. “I messaged him last night asking if I could steal you away for the day.”

A smile rivaling Louis’ starts to spread over Harry’s lips as he realizes what Louis is saying. “What?”

“Niall is going to cover for you and bring in reinforcements,” Louis continues. “What, you thought I was going to come all the way here and just let you go back to work? Fuck that. We have a lot of time to make up for all those missed meetings.”

Harry laughs. “So what do you have planned, then?” He runs a hand down Louis’ chest, fingers sliding over the soft material and feeling the dampness from the rain coming down outside that’s absorbed into the fabric.

“Well,” Louis says. He smirks slyly, running a hand up Harry’s shoulder. “I thought we might get some lunch, if you’re hungry,” Louis says.

Harry nods. “Okay, that sounds nice.”

“Or,” Louis says, pausing. He drops his voice and stands up on his toes a bit to whisper in Harry’s ear, “I could take you back to my flat and eat you instead.”

Harry gulps, his heart pounding in his chest. Heat flares through his belly going straight to his cock. His skin heats up as Louis steps back, looking at him innocently.

“Your choice,” Louis says, smiling genuinely. “What’ll it be?”

Harry bites on his lower lip and watches as Louis’ eyes darken a bit, his pupils dilating as he watches the movement. The choice isn’t difficult.

~~~

Louis is pretty sure he doesn’t breathe the entire time back to his flat. At first he said they should take the tube, since that’s how he got to the bakery to begin with, but Harry insisted they take his Range Rover. He’s not sure why he finds it so hot that Harry has a fucking SUV, but maybe it has something to do with the spacious backseat and all the fun activities they could have there.

Louis is also pretty sure Harry’s foot doesn’t leave the gas pedal as he weaves through busy mid-morning London traffic. Louis directs him down streets to his building, telling him when and where to turn. They don’t talk much besides Louis’ directions. Harry’s eyes don’t leave the road and he’s gripping the steering wheel tightly, but Louis can see the bulge in Harry’s skintight jeans. Louis can relate. He’s hard as a rock, the seam of his jeans giving just the right amount of pressure to tease him as he sits in the passenger seat.

Not quite twenty minutes later, Louis directs Harry into the carpark across the street from his building. Louis leans over to the parking attendant to show him his ID so Harry can park for free, the attendant checking Louis’ name against a list of residents. Harry pulls into a spot and has barely parked the car before Louis is pulling off his seatbelt and jumping out. He pulls his hood up to protect his head against the rain and walks to the other side of the car.

Harry steps out and slams the door, hitting the lock button on his keys. When he hears the beep, he pockets his keys and smiles. “Lead the way, Lewis,” he jokes.

Louis grins and waves a hand. “Follow me.”

The two run across the street to the building. Louis swipes a fob in front of the door and it unlocks. He pulls it open and lets Harry in first, following close behind. He doesn’t really give Harry time to look around, as he pulls on his wrist and leads him through the lobby. They get to the lift and Louis pounds the up button, waiting for one of the lifts to ding. It feels like ages before one finally arrives on the ground floor, and Louis thinks he hears Harry giggling. When he looks over, Harry is looking at him with a fond face and a grin on his lips. Louis can’t really find it in himself to care if he looks desperate. He’s waited so long for this, and he’s getting held up by a fucking lift.

When they’re safely nestled inside the lift that is, thankfully, empty, Louis hits the button for his floor and crowds Harry up against the wall.

He hears Harry take a sharp breath and shudder. Louis aligns his body up with Harry’s, making sure his cock rubs against Harry’s thigh as he leans up, just as he did in the bakery, to whisper in Harry’s ear, “There’s so much I want to do to you.” He licks a stripe along the shell of Harry’s ear and breathes hot air against it, causing Harry to shudder again. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

A ding sounds through the lift and Louis glances at the numbers above the door. They’re at his floor. He steps back and holds out a hand as the doors open. “C’mon, Harold. Keep up now.”

It seems Harry’s brain has started to short-circuit as all he does is take Louis’ hand and let himself be dragged from the lift down the hall. Louis’ door is to the right and four doors down. He can feel Harry hovering behind him as he unlocks his flat. He pushes the door open and pulls Harry inside.

He slams the door shut and backs Harry up against it. He reaches a hand around him to lock it again and presses his body up to Harry’s, grinding his cock against his thigh again. Harry is looking down at him with unabashed lust, his eyes blown and a flush high on his cheek. He whimpers when Louis reaches a hand between them and palms at his bulge, Louis’s fingers pressing down on the zipper to tease him.

Harry’s eyes fall shut and his head knocks back against the door as Louis begins to kiss along his neck and jawline, all the way up to Harry’s ear. He loves Harry’s ears, loves how they pinken when he’s flushed and how warm and soft they feel. He says lowly, hotly, into Harry’s ear, “What do you want me to do?”

It’s not long before Harry’s voice chokes out, “Everything.”

Louis grins and begins kissing his way back down Harry’s neck to his face, along his cheeks and jaw. When he’s kissed everywhere but Harry’s lips, he pauses. He whispers softly, “Open your eyes, baby.”

Harry obeys, his eyes blinking open. He’s flushed and his lips are red, little bite marks visible along his bottom lip. For a moment, Louis doesn’t do anything. He just looks. A few freckles litter Harry’s cheeks. His lips are plump and look soft, so soft. His eyes bore into Louis’, dark and wanting. Finally, Louis leans in.

Harry lets out a sigh against Louis’ lips when he kisses him, his lips just as soft as Louis imagined, his mouth pliant. His eyes stay open as he lets Louis take the lead, pressing his lips in a sweet kiss. Louis parts his lips a little, his tongue pressing in on the seam of Harry’s lips. Harry opens his automatically, like he was waiting for it, and Louis pushes his tongue past Harry’s lips. He tongues at the roof of Harry’s mouth and Harry lets out a groan, the sound vibrating through Louis’ lips. Harry’s eyes slip shut as he hums, pleased, as Louis begins to bite on his bottom lip. Harry is so responsive, it drives Louis mad. Harry makes a particularly delicious noise when Louis bites a little harder on his lips, and Louis makes a note of that for later. Louis’ hand, which had been resting pretty dormant over Harry’s bulge, starts to palm him again. Harry groans again, his hands finding their way to Louis’ hips as he pulls him closer. Louis removes his hand and Harry whines until he feels Louis line their cocks up, pushing forward through their jeans to feel Harry’s hardness against his own.

Louis barely manages to suppress a groan when Harry’s fingers dig into his ass, pulling him closer still so Harry can begin to give little thrusts towards Louis’ cock. He eases up on his kisses until he’s barely mouthing at Harry’s lips. Harry’s eyes flutter open and he pants heavy breaths over Louis’ face.

“Let’s go to bed,” Louis says, his voice rough and low.

Harry nods eagerly, taking Louis’ hand and following him through the flat. They pass his kitchen and living room, turning right into a little hall. Louis turns into the second bedroom on the left. His bed is pushed up into the middle of the wall, a nightstand on either side. Rain is coming down in earnest, now, pattering against the window. The room is dark save for the grey light streaming through. Louis pulls Harry further into the room and turns him so he’s backed against the edge of the bed.

“Lay down, love,” Louis directs.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed and does as Louis says. He kicks off his shoes and scoots back, laying down flat on the bed and watching Louis. He looks so trusting and eager, and Louis can’t wait to take him apart.

Louis kicks off his Adidas and climbs onto the bed, sliding up next to Harry and pulling him so they’re both resting their heads on Louis’ pillows, face to face. He wraps a hand around Harry’s neck to drag him into a kiss. It’s rougher than their first, Louis’ lips demanding and persistent as he sucks on Harry’s lips. Harry has begun to tremble, a hand returning to Louis’ waist to try to pull him closer. Louis licks into Harry’s mouth again, teasing the roof like he did before. Harry responds again beautifully, whimpers pouring from his mouth as he tries to find purchase on Louis’ waist, his nails scratching at the denim of his jeans.

Louis wants to take his time, but he’s aching and he has a feeling Harry is worse. He bites on Harry’s lower lip again and Harry whines, a high noise that echoes in the quiet of the room. Louis pulls back to see Harry’s face. Sweat’s begun to form along his hairline and he’s shaking. His eyes have fallen shut again. Louis reaches a hand between them to palm at Harry’s bulge, feeling the hardness underneath his jeans.

Harry’s eyes fly open and he groans. “Please, Louis,” he pleads, pushing further into Louis’ hand.

Louis smiles and pulls his hand back. Harry lets out a shaky breath and Louis gently pushes sweaty curls that have fallen onto Harry’s forehead. “Look at you,” he says quietly. “You’re so beautiful. So hard for me, baby, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Harry groans, “So hard, Lou.”

Louis hums and pushes Harry onto his back. He’s still fully clothed, a jumper stretched over his torso and his jeans practically painted on. Louis eyes the source of Harry’s discomfort, his cock straining against his jeans. He leans up onto one elbow and drags a hand down Harry’s chest, his fingers catching in the soft material of his jumper. He doesn’t go any further than his belly, purposely ignoring his cock. Harry watches him, wide-eyed and aching as Louis continues to feel across his chest and stomach.

Finally, Louis rests his hand on Harry’s stomach and says, “Did you mean what you said the other night? On the phone?”

Harry looks confused for a moment. “About,” he pants out, “about what?”

“About it never feeling right with anyone before?” He has to ask, he has to know. Before they do this, before they go any further.

Recognition blooms behind Harry’s eyes and he nods. “I did, yeah.”

“Then do you want to try?” Louis feels himself begin to flush, embarrassment prickling inside. But he wants to do this right. He wants to take care of Harry, so he has to _know_.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room are their heavy breathing. Harry’s breaths have started to slow, his heaving chest beginning to return to a more even pace. He looks at Louis, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Then, finally, “What did you have in mind?”

Louis lets out a breath and walks his fingers up Harry’s chest so he’s rubbing at the skin of his neck. “Have you ever tried edging before?” he asks.

Harry shakes his head immediately. “No, not even by myself.”

Louis nods back and says slowly. “Would you want to try? With me?”

It’s still for a second as Harry considers. Louis knows he’s so hard, so aching, so he understands if Harry just wants to come. But then, Harry’s cracking voice says quietly, “Yes. Yes, please.”

Louis watches Harry’s face for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. He finds none, though. Harry looks up at him, sweaty and out of breath, but he looks absolutely certain. So Louis’s next words are, “Take your clothes off.”

Harry nods quickly and sits up, pulling his jumper over his head. Louis follows suit, pulling both his hoodie and the t-shirt he had underneath off in one fell swoop. He pauses when Harry goes for his jeans, his hands stuttering over the button and zipper. His shaky fingers pull the zipper down, the scraping loud in the otherwise silent room. He watches as Harry begins to pull his jeans down, the waistband of his pants starting to show. Slowly Harry drags them down, over his bulge and past his thighs. Harry has beautiful thighs, milky and smooth. He finally gets his jeans to his ankles and kicks them off and they fall to the floor in a heap, and he lets out a huff of satisfaction.

Harry is now sitting on Louis’ bed naked except for the boxer briefs clinging to his thighs and waist. His cock is tenting the front of them, a small wet patch where his cock is leaking precum into them. Louis lets out a groan and reaches out to still Harry’s hand when he begins to tug on the waistband to pull them off.

“Let me?” he asks, his voice shaky and God, Harry has to know how turned on he is by this right?

Harry just nods and lays back again, his curls spread across the pillows. Louis swings a leg over Harry’s to straddle him. He runs his hands up Harry’s chest, fingers catching on his nipples and the coarse hair that leads down into his boxer briefs. On his second pass over Harry’s nipples, Harry groans and arches his back into Louis’ touch. Louis does it again and Harry whines.

“Do you like your nipples being played with?” Louis asks, pinching them between his fingers.

“Yes,” Harry says, blinking up at Louis. “Yeah, I do.”

“Interesting,” Louis says, grinning, and then lets them go. He runs his hands down to Harry’s waist where he toys with the waistband of his pants. “I’m going to take these off now, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry breathes.

Louis climbs off of Harry and lays back down next to him, propping himself up on one arm. He rests a hand over Harry’s cock, rubbing him through his pants. The wet spot has grown, Harry’s cock hard and wet beneath the fabric. He gives him a squeeze through his pants and Harry stutters out a laugh.

“You sure like teasing, don’t you?” he asks. When Louis looks up at him, he’s got a pleased smile on his face, his breaths heavy.

“I like teasing you,” Louis says, smiling. “But...if it gets too much, tell me, yeah?”

“I’m good,” Harry says. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Louis says, and he gives Harry another squeeze before he drags his hands back to the waistband. He tugs on the top and pulls the front of his boxer briefs down, enough to expose Harry’s cock.

When his cock hits the cool air, Harry hisses and grabs hold of the sheets. “Fuck,” he groans. “Louis, please.”

Louis lets go of his his pants so they snap back up, trapped beneath the base of Harry’s cock, his balls still hidden from view. Louis runs a finger over Harry’s slit and slides the beads of precum gathered there down, pulling his foreskin with it.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” Harry moans, his head turning to the side as he pants into the pillow. “Fuck, so good.”

Louis smiles and drags his hand all the way down Harry’s cock to the base. He wraps his hand around it and squeezes. He looks up at Harry, his eyes screwed shut as he breathes hot, heavy breaths over the pillow. “Baby, can you open your eyes?” he asks.

It takes a moment, and some extreme willpower, but Harry finally opens his eyes and peers down at Louis. The sight of his cock in Louis’ hand, his balls aching against the waistband of his pants, makes him groan out, “Fuck, Lou.”

“I know,” Louis says soothingly, giving Harry’s base a squeeze. “I wanted to ask you… I need to know… What you’re okay with?”

“Everything,” Harry bites out, “whatever you want to do.”

Louis laughs but shakes his head. “Nuh huh. I need you to tell me.”

Harry huffs a frustrated breath. He runs a hand over his sweaty forehead, pushing his damp curls back over his head. “I don’t know,” he says, “really, Louis.”

Louis gives his cock another squeeze. “Do you want my mouth?” he asks.

“Yes!” Harry cries.

“Where?” Louis asks, prodding for information.

“I want you to suck me,” Harry says, groaning when he sees more precum slide down his cock from the slit.

“Okay,” Louis says, nodding. “I can do that.”

“Want you to finger me,” Harry adds, chest heaving. “Want to come from your fingers.”

Louis smirks a little, “Yeah? What else?”

“Want you to finger me till I can’t take it anymore,” Harry groans, his eyes falling shut again.

“Hmm,” Louis hums, starting to stroke Harry again. “Sounds like fun.”

“Louis please,” Harry says, “please, Lou.”

Louis doesn’t reply, just grips Harry’s cock a little harder and keep stroking him. He’s mesmerized as his hand glides up and down. More precum drips from the tip as Louis pumps Harry’s cock. It’s so red and wet and thick in his hand. He can just imagine how Harry tastes, how he’ll feel in his mouth. How nice and hard he’d be fucking him.

He gives Harry a few more pumps before his hand stills and he sits up. Harry blinks his eyes open. “Why are you still wearing jeans?” he asks.

Louis laughs, reaching for the button of his jeans. “Got distracted, didn’t I?”

Harry giggles and Louis grins, undoing the zipper and pulling his jeans down. He leaves his boxer briefs on as he tosses his jeans to the floor, climbing up his bed and reaching into the nightstand closest to him. He fumbles until he feels his bottle of lube and grabs it, leaving the drawer open.

He settles back down next to Harry, whose hands are now gripping the sheets so tight they’re wrinkling the fabric. Louis looks down his body, his cock resting against his stomach, precum now pooling on his belly. His chest is flushed and sweaty, his cheeks even worse. He looks so wrecked, so beautiful, that Louis has to lean down and kiss him.

Harry welcomes it, smiling as Louis kisses him and coaxes his lips open. He doesn’t kiss him long, though, because he knows how hard Harry is, how badly he needs to come, and he wants to make him come, wants him to feel so good.

When Louis pulls back he asks, “If this gets too much for you, tell me, okay?”

Harry nods. “Okay.”

“Let’s settle on a safe word,” Louis suggests. “If you’re not okay with something, or if you want me to stop, say it.”

“Whisk,” Harry says automatically. When Louis gives him a questioning look, he adds on, “I’ve, uh, already thought of it. Like, before. When I thought about this. Whisk.”

A bright smile stretches Louis’ lips, a quick laugh escaping his throat. “Okay. Whisk it is.”

He kisses Harry’s jawline and works his way down Harry’s chest, sucking on his nipples and giving them little bites. He kisses his stomach, avoiding Harry’s cock aching on his belly. He kisses his way to Harry’s right thigh, where he sucks a bruise into the soft, white skin. He soothes the mark with his tongue, lapping at the skin hungrily.

He finally opens the bottle of lube and hears Harry’s sharp intake of breath at the snick of the bottle cap. He continues to kiss at Harry’s inner thigh as he pours a thick coating of lube onto his fingers. Without taking his mouth away, he presses a finger to Harry’s entrance. He begins to rub a small circle around his hole, getting it nice and wet, as he says, “Don’t touch yourself, alright?”

Harry groans. “ _Fuck_ , okay.”

“You’re gonna come from my fingers, okay?” he adds.

“Yes,” Harry agrees. “ _Yes, yes_.”

He teases the tip of a finger into Harry’s hole, his mind blanking out over the tight, wet heat enveloping his finger. He pushes it in little by little, letting Harry get used to the stretch. He goes back to sucking another bruise into Harry’s thigh as he begins to thrust his finger in out and out, the lube easing the glide.

“Louis, please, more,” Harry moans. His hands start to trail over his chest, down towards his cock.

He’s barely touched himself when Louis stills his fingers and stops sucking. “No,” he says.

Harry’s hands pause and he whines. “ _Lou_ , please,” he begs.

“Don’t touch yourself,” he reminds Harry.

“Need more, Lou,” Harry cries, his head twisted into the pillow, his curls matted to his forehead.

“Play with your nipples,” Louis directs.

He watches as Harry’s hands drag back up his chest and he pinches his nipples between his fingers, moaning at the sharp pain as he tugs.

“Good,” Louis says, and he begins to thrust his finger again. He only gives him another minute before he pulls his finger out entirely. Harry groans at the loss but Louis hushes him, pouring more lube onto his fingers. “Gonna add another,” he says.

“Yes,” Harry breathes. “Fuck, yes, Lou, another.”

Louis smiles at Harry’s broken moans, the way his voice is cracking and chest is heaving. He’s still tugging on his nipples. As he pushes two fingers inside of Harry, he watches Harry’s cock twitch on his stomach. It’s so wet and hard, precum starting to dribble down Harry’s sides. He doesn’t touch himself, though.

“You’re being so good for me, baby,” Louis says, beginning to thrust both fingers. “You’re so good.”

“Yes, so good,” Harry whines, “feels so good.”

“Can you take another?” Louis asks, scissoring his fingers inside of Harry. Harry cries at the stretch and pulls at his nipples roughly.

“Yes,” he groans.

Louis pulls his fingers out and adds more lube to his already sticky fingers. He circles Harry’s entrance a few times before slowly starting to push in. The choked moan Harry releases as Louis pushes past his rim is obscene, and Louis grinds down on his bed to relieve some of the pressure in his own cock.

“So hot, baby,” he praises.

Louis takes his time stretching his fingers inside Harry before he begins curling his fingers, searching for his spot. He thrusts in and out in time to Harry’s moans, curling and stretching his fingers. When he finally feels the little nub, he presses down on it and Harry cries out with a shout.

“There, Lou,” he groans, “ _fuck_ , right there.”

Louis begins to massage his prostate, using his fingers to press down onto it and thrust. Harry’s whines are echoing around the whole room and he knows he’s getting close. When Harry starts to thrust imperceptibly into the air, seeking friction where there is none, Louis stills his fingers.

Harry groans and barely gets out, “What are you doing?”

Louis slowly pulls his fingers out and climbs up Harry’s body. “Gonna suck you for a bit,” he answers.

At that, Harry gives a particularly harsh tug to his nipples and whines, “Yes, please, Lou, suck me. Want your mouth.”

Louis doesn’t waste any time as he leans down over Harry’s belly and laps at the precum that’s gathered there, avoiding Harry’s cock. Once he’s satisfied, he grabs Harry’s cock at the base and sucks the tip into his mouth. Harry lets out a high-pitched whine and lets one hand go from his nipple to grab at the sheets.

“Yes,” he groans, “more.”

Louis takes him down further. He slides his mouth up and down, not enough to make Harry come but enough to provide some sweet relief. He’s so hard in Louis’ hand, and Louis squeezes the base to make sure he doesn’t come. He doesn’t take him all the way down, just bobs his head up and down as he wraps his lips around him. He starts to jerk him in time with his bobs, his mouth and hand covering his whole length.

He feels Harry start to get restless as he starts to thrust his cock into Louis’ mouth. “Lou, gonna come,” Harry warns. Louis squeezes him around his base and eases off. He sucks little sucks to the head before he pulls off entirely and kisses the tip.

“God, Harry, you taste so good,” he says, his voice rough, “want you to taste yourself.”

He straddles Harry again and leans down, kissing him. Harry opens his mouth and lets Louis push his tongue inside so Harry can taste himself. Harry grips the sheets and pants into Louis’ mouth, barely kissing back as he breathes heavy breaths.

Louis pulls back and starts to kiss his way back down Harry’s chest. He settles back between his thighs and grabs for the lube again. He pours more onto his fingers and rubs at Harry’s hole again. “Gonna let you come now, love,” he says. “Can you come for me?”

“Yes!” Harry cries.

“Want to see your pretty cock come,” he says, tongueing over one of the bruises he left on Harry’s thigh. “Bet you’re gonna come all over yourself.”

“Louis, please,” Harry begs, “please let me come.”

“Okay baby,” Louis agrees, and he pushes his fingers back inside.

He doesn’t tease Harry again, just seeks back out the spot that he knows will have Harry seeing stars. It doesn’t take him long to find it. He curls his fingers and starts thrusting against it relentlessly. He kisses all along Harry’s thigh as he fingers him, Harry’s moans echoing in his head. God, he’s so responsive, so beautiful. Louis is ruined for anyone but him.

He feels Harry start to tremble and he wants him to come, _needs_ him to come. He starts rubbing his fingers against his prostate and says against Harry’s skin, “C’mon, Harry, come for me.” Then he bites down on one of the bruises.

That is what does it. Harry comes with a shout, and Louis looks up just in time to see his cock paint his chest with stripes of come. Louis keeps fingering him through it, forcing more come out through little spurts. Harry groans a mantra of “ _fuck fuck fuck_ ” over and over, his eyes shut tight as he arches his back. Louis starts to slow his fingers, then gently pulls them out when Harry’s cock lays limp on his stomach. He kisses Harry’s thigh and wipes his hand on his boxer briefs. He never got around to taking them off.

He slides up to lay against Harry who is breathing heavily and boneless. Louis kisses his shoulder and keeps pressing soft, gentle kisses to his skin as Harry comes down. He runs a hand through the mess on Harry’s chest and smiles when Harry blinks his eyes open a few minutes later.

“Hi,” Louis says quietly.

“Hi,” Harry says back, a small smile growing on his face. “Hi.”

“How are you?” Louis asks.

“‘M good,” Harry says. “Perfect.”

“It wasn’t too much, right?” Louis asks, voice soft. He hopes he didn’t go too far. “Was it too much?”

Harry shakes his head. “I’d have told you,” he answers. He smirks. “Whisk, remember?”

Louis chuckles. “Yeah. I remember.”

Harry rolls over onto his side to face Louis. “It was amazing,” he says. Then, he looks down and sees the state of Louis’ own arousal. “Want me to help you with that?”

Louis grins. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Are you kidding? Been waiting to touch you for a month! C’mere.”

Louis scoots closer and Harry reaches a hand between them. He pulls Louis free from his pants and starts to pump him. Louis groans, not really noticing how hard he is. He’d been so focused on Harry that he barely thought about it.

“It was so good, Lou,” Harry whispers, leaning over to talk into Louis’ ear. “So good. Came so hard from your fingers, love.”

Louis stutters a breath. “Good,” he says. “Wanted to make you feel good.”

“Gonna finger you soon,” Harry continues, “and I’m gonna make you come like you made me come.”

Louis starts to thrust into Harry’s hand, their faces barely centimeters apart. “Want you to.”

“C’mon Lou,” Harry says, “wanna see you come.” He picks up his pace, his hand dragging up and down over Louis’ cock. It only takes a few more pumps before Louis is spilling into his hand, warm come coating his fingers, and Louis’ moan of release echoing in his ear.

Harry kisses Louis’ cheeks as he comes down. He lets go when he feels Louis wince with oversensitivity, and he wipes his hand on Louis’ sheets. He’ll help wash them later.

Louis wraps a hand around Harry’s neck and pulls him into another kiss. They kiss lazily for a few minutes, come cooling on Harry’s chest and rain still pattering the windows.

Eventually, they break apart and Harry gives Louis a smile that rivals the sun. “Thank you,” he says, and Louis doesn’t have to ask what for. The “everything” goes unsaid.

Louis smiles softly, blushing, and he grips Harry’s hip. “C’mon Harold. Let’s shower.”

Not for the first time that day, Harry lets Louis take his hand and lead him the way. This time, they spend a long time in Louis’ shower, washing away sweat and come and giggling into kisses. Then they curl up on Louis’ couch with takeaway, the telly, and the rain to keep them company.

~~~

The next two weeks are complete bliss. Harry and Louis are in a bubble of sex, cuddling, and secret giggling whispers in each other’s beds. They make time with their schedules. Louis has a lighter work week and surprises Harry with lunch, knowing sometimes he works through it.

Louis even gets Harry to FaceTime his family, with them loudly introducing themselves one at a time. Harry had positively cooed at Doris and Ernie, and Louis could tell that the girls were just as easily charmed as he had been by Harry’s smile. Gemma had called one morning, and Louis thought it was his phone ringing, much to Harry’s mortification and Gemma’s complete and utter glee. He’s just glad it wasn’t Anne (who Harry made him Skype with later in the day before Gemma ruined it).

It’s Niall and Liam who have right strops about not being properly introduced.

Niall whines about how he got them to meet, and Harry should be thanking him for him being able to get laid on the regular now. How it’s only right for him to have a proper conversation with his boyfriend. Which they are practically dating yes, but they haven’t labeled it yet. God, Niall.

Liam whines about how he took Louis’ shift for Louis to get laid and he quite frankly expects more than just a thank you. He wants cupcakes (or Sophia wants cupcakes), and will do anything to meet Harry even if he has to go into the bakery himself. Louis became mortified and told him there was no way in hell he could meet Harry without Louis there to supervise.

Harry laughs and tells Louis he’ll work on a “Thanks for letting him come” cake, to which Louis responded “Cheeky boy. I like it.” and they devised a plan for their best friends to meet. The scenario: karaoke night at Niall’s favorite pub in town. Harry and Niall frequented the pub, if they were ever given time, and Niall had always wanted to go to karaoke night but claimed “Two people weren’t enough for a night of karaoke!”.

“Fucking finally. Two greatest things in one night. Karaoke, for one, and I get to meet your boy,” Niall claps a hand over Harry’s shoulder, surveying the bar.

“About that,” Harry starts, “We haven’t..” he trails off, “He’s not.”

He hears a scoff behind him, “Excuse me Harold? Are you trying to say you’re not my boy?”

Harry turns around, eyes wide, to see Louis shooting him a wicked grin. He looks absolutely decadent in black jeans and a graphic tee. “I mean, we never spoke about it. I didn’t know if you wanted to label it yet, I didn’t want to just call you my boyfriend without-”

“I was calling you his boyfriend!” Niall interjects unhelpfully, after asking the hostess for a table of four.

“Relax love,” Louis puts his hand up to Harry’s cheek, “I’ve never heard you talk so fast.”

“Stop, ‘m nervous,” Harry blushes, then puts his head down to Louis’ ear so only he can hear, “So am I your boy then?”

He can feel Louis’ smile against his cheek, “Absolutely love,” he presses a dry kiss to his cheek and pulls away.

“Harold this is,” Louis turns around to find Liam no longer there. In fact, Niall is no longer there either, and the hostess is looking at them unimpressed.

“They’re in the back corner,” she supplies, nodding her head to where Niall and Liam are sitting at a table laughing hysterically at them.

“Twats,” Louis mutters, taking Harry’s hand.

Louis flops down in the seat next to Liam, while Harry takes the one across from him. “Have you quite finished yet?”

Liam giggles into his hand, while Niall’s face is red with laughter, “Nice to meet you mate, I’m Liam,” he thrusts out his hand at Louis’ glare.

“I’m Niall,” Niall laughs loudly. “But me and Liam here already met. Same to you, Louis. Let you in the bakery, didn’t I?”

Harry nudges Louis’ leg, so he stops threatening Liam with the butter knife. Louis smiles sweetly, “That you did Niall. Never thanked you for that did I?”

Niall shakes his head, taking a sip of water, “Don’t have to mate. This one here was insufferable. It was my pleasure.”

Louis looks at Harry fondly, before Liam makes him scowl, “This one has been smitten ever since they exchanged numbers.”

Louis locks eyes with Harry’s sparkling green ones, “This was a bad idea,” he mock whispers loudly.

Harry rolls his eyes, smiling fondly. He opens his mouth to say something, but their waitress comes up, interrupting him. They order their pints while Niall scours the menu.

“And could we have two orders of nachos, three orders of wings, and two orders of sliders?” Niall hands her his menu. They all glance at him curiously, “I’m sorry did you guys want anything?”

Liam’s eyes trail over Niall’s small figure, “Are you-”

Niall laughs loudly, “I’m just kidding. That’s for the whole table ma’am. You can bring it out whenever.”

Liam lets out a breath and Louis is in hysterics. Harry puts his head in his hands like Niall does this all the time.

Louis doesn’t know how it happens, but Niall ends up ordering them four rounds of shots, and probably way too many pints (he’s pretty sure he’s snuck in an extra three rounds of wings as well). By the time the bartender announces karaoke night is actually starting, they’re all halfway to pissed, and laughing hysterically over Niall’s impersonation of the bridezilla from weeks ago.

“What song are you doing Louis?” Liam all but yells in Louis’ ear after Louis returns from his trip to the loo. Harry practically claws his way into Louis’ lap, nuzzling into his neck.

“I haven’t picked yet,” Louis wraps his arms around his boy, enjoying a good nuzzle, “What song are you doing?”

“Up next is Liam with Billie Jean by Michael Jackson.”

“That’s my cue!” Liam all but stumbles out of the booth, giggling.

Niall whoops, while Louis tries not to groan. “Liam would pick a song to show off his falsetto.”

The opening lines start and Liam’s already shimmying and gyrating. Louis needs to close his eyes from secondhand embarrassment. Harry and Niall are cheering loudly, while the whole entire fucking bar sings along because Liam is a puppy, and everyone is so easily pleased by his presence.

It takes Harry singing the song in Louis’ face for him to laugh and start singing. If only Liam would stop hip thrusting towards the older women in front of the stage.

One gets particularly handsy and tries to grab at him while Liam scurries across the stage on a particular high note. Louis pulls out his phone, Sophia will love this.

When Liam comes back to the table, he plops down next to Niall, sweating.

“That nan tried to take off your pants,” Louis laughs at Liam’s ears pinkening.

“I know, I had to run away from her. She scared me a bit,” Liam takes another drink. “Bit hot in here though, yeah?”

Harry waves a finger at Liam, “Just wait until you see this.”

All three of them whip their heads around to him, just as the announcer says “Next up, Harry with Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon.”

Louis’ jaw drops as Harry gets up off his lap, plants a wet kiss on his lips, and walks up to the stage, hips swaying.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

The next three minutes are Louis dreadfully trying to not pop a boner in public, while Harry, sweet bakery owner who covers himself in frosting and flour incessantly, writhes all over the stage and microphone stand. His voice is deep and gritty, practically growling the lyrics and Louis isn’t sure he’s moved, or even breathed, until Harry comes back and sits on his lap.

Niall just looks at him knowingly and whistles.

Louis grips Harry’s thigh before getting up. “Gonna go put my song in then.”

Louis takes calming breaths, knowing that Harry’s eyes are on him. He chooses his song wisely, a song that he knows he can sing, and loves to bop a long to. But who is he kidding, no one can upstage Harry being positively sinful on stage.

The four of them sing along to the next couple of performers, laughing at the trip ups on lyrics, all while Louis’ hand rests high on Harry’s thigh. During one performance, Liam and Niall get up, whispering conspiratorially.

“What are they up to?” Louis whispers into Harry’s ear.

“Dunno,” Harry replies, “Can’t wait to see you up there soon.” He mouths at his neck.

Louis inhales sharply. When LIam and Niall come back, Harry pulls away quickly with a Cheshire cat smile, as if nothing ever happened.

“Next up, Louis with Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus.”

Louis salutes to their table and bounces up to the stage, palms sweating. “This one is for you, darling,” Louis laughs into the microphone as Harry whoops loudly. “Don’t be silly babe, it’s for Niall.”

He can see Harry pout while Niall cackles loudly, grabbing his stomach. “Louis I love your arse!” he shouts, while Louis turns around and wiggles his bum.

He makes it through the song by bouncing up and down, mildly acting out the lyrics (his favorite is the pout after “my lips start to shake”) and when the song is over and he returns to his seat, Harry kisses him hard.

“Your voice,” Harry mumbles in between kisses, “you can sing!”

Louis preens, “Lots of musicals in college, love.”

“He can play piano too,” Liam adds.

Harry turns to him with glassy eyes. “Yeah?”

“Been trying to learn guitar too. On my list of things to do.”

“I can teach ya guitar mate,” Niall’s accent gets thicker with more alcohol, Louis notices. “Been playing a long time.”

“Do that,” Harry all but demands. Louis giggles, while Niall and Liam downright cackle and Harry rests his hand on Louis’ thigh this time.

“We’ve got a duet this time!” The audience cheers, “Niall and Liam with Sorry by Justin Bieber. A new song. Let’s hear you do it boys.”

Louis and Harry turn to their mutual best friends. “No,” they say at the same time.

“We’re doing it!” Liam and Niall wiggle their hips at them and bounce off onto the stage.

“This is going to be terrible,” Louis slams his head down on the table as the opening notes of Sorry start.

Liam starts off the song by doing the autotuned “oooooh” and takes the falsetto while Niall harmonizes with him, actually kind of perfectly. Harry and Louis cheer and holler as they quickly synchronize their choreography. Liam shimmies while Niall does his particularly violent hip thrusts. They look like an honest to God boyband, and Louis and Harry are in hysterics.

“We need to beat them at their own game,” Louis yells into Harry’s ear, while Liam gets down on his knees and flips his microphone.

“I know just the song babe,” Harry winks.

Niall and Liam come back to the table in full force, amidst applause from the entire pub. Louis and Harry just shake their heads fondly.

“Looks like we have another duet! A duel some might say.” Liam quirks a brow, “This is Harry and Louis singing Summer Nights from the musical Grease.”

Harry is already on stage, and beckons Louis with a finger. It truly should not be as hot as it is.

“You will never beat us!” Niall yells from their table.

Louis smirks at Harry, “Ready, babe?”

“Always,” Harry smiles right back.

Harry does Olivia Newton-John flawlessly, as they flirt across the stage. They shimmy into each other, back and forth, positively radiating like the sun.

They play the parts perfectly, and the crowd loves them. At the end of the song, Harry pulls Louis in for a kiss, dipping him on stage. Louis laughs into his the kiss.

“What was that, Harold?” Louis laughs.

“Really gotta steal the show,” Harry laughs along with him.

When they get back to the table, Niall and Liam stare at them unimpressed. “You can’t just use romance to win the crowd.”

Harry drops a kiss onto Louis’ cheek, “Looks like we did.”

The night starts winding down, less people wanting to go onto the stage again.

“Nialler! Where’s your solo?” Louis demands, once he’s noticed the people repeating themselves. The pub hasn’t quieted down though.

“Oh, that’s right,” Niall puts his glass down and runs over to the bar.

When he returns 15 minutes later, he has a guitar strapped on his back.

“Niall, you realize this is karaoke right?” Harry reminds him.

Niall laughs, “Don’t worry about it.”

Liam and Louis look to each other and shrug.

“Next up, Niall Horan with Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran.”

Louis nudges Harry, “Is he going to actually play the guitar or is he going to one up us?”

Harry turns to Louis looking at him very seriously, while Liam cheers obliviously, “He’s going to one up us. for sure.”

Niall gets through the entire song without a problem, hitting every note perfectly. The three of them sit back, impressed. When the last notes die out, Niall turns the guitar around and places a finger on his lips. The pub falls silent.

Louis turns to Harry who looks equally stunned.

He starts strumming the beginning notes to the Parting Glass, a traditional song in Ireland. Harry rolls his eyes at Niall’s predictability.

Niall has the entire pub, smack in the middle of London, in England for God’s sake, singing an Irish song. Louis and Harry shake their heads, laughing silently.

When Niall finishes, the entire pub erupts in mad applause.

“That wasn’t on the karaoke machine!” Louis yells loudly.

“Fuck off!” Niall yells back, his smile wide and bright.

Niall clambers back to the table, and they all gather him in a group hug, cheering and clapping him on the back for his star performance.

The announcer tells the crowd they’ve only got time for one more hour of songs and Liam looks at his watch.

“Getting late, we should probably head out. You guys are going to be exhausted tomorrow for work.”

“It’s Friday. We’ll make it, Lima Bean. Don’t worry about us.” Louis looks at Harry and Niall and is reminded of their equally early morning.

“Let’s head out, lads,” he declares. They all chime in on the bill, and venture outside into the cold.

“You want me to take Liam home? And you can take Harry? He’s closer to my house than Harry is anyway,” Niall suggests.

“You okay with that Liam?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, I’m good,” He hugs Louis quickly then throws his arm around Niall. “Lead the way Nialler.”

Harry brings them both in for a hug before ruffling Niall’s hair and telling him he’ll see him tomorrow.

They take off towards Niall’s car and then it’s just Louis and Harry, watching each other.

“Alright love, let’s go home,” Louis holds out his hand for Harry.

Harry takes it easily.

~~~

Harry awakes the following morning to gentle kisses being pressed into his neck. His eyes are gritty and crusty, and his throat feels a bit raw, but he doesn't need to open his eyes to know who it is.

He reaches a hand out to touch whatever part of Louis is closest. “Hi love,” he greets, voice crackly with disuse and remnants of their karaoke night.

“Time to get up, baby,” Louis whispers. Harry groans and nuzzles further into Louis. Louis laughs and pets at Harry's unruly bedhead. “C’mon, none of that. Do you want tea?”

Harry nods into Louis’ neck before pulling away. He blinks his eyes open and asks, “Pancakes?”

Louis giggles. “Do we have time?”

Harry rolls his eyes and yawns. “Baker, remember?” He grabs the back of Louis’ neck and pulls him into a kiss. “You're on tea duty.”

“I can live with that,” Louis replies, and kisses him again.

After they've both brushed their teeth and made some sense of their mussed hair, Harry sets to work on whipping up a batch of blueberry pancakes. Louis works alongside him, boiling water and setting out two mugs for tea. It's all rather domestic, which Harry tries hard not to grin too much at. He's feeling a warm fuzziness that he's not ready to put a name to yet, but by the way Louis giggles when he smears a thumbprint of batter over Harry's cheek, he figures he's not alone.

Louis lets out an orgasm-worthy sound when he bites into the pancakes. “Fuck, Harold. This is almost as good as that thing you do with your tongue.”

Harry barks a laugh and hides his face in his hands. “Oh my God, I'll never be able to look at these the same.”

“No joke,” Louis continues, “I have never had pancakes this good.”

Harry blushes. “You're just saying that ‘cause it's me.”

Louis just gives him a fond look and shrugs. “I stand by what I said. Best pancakes ever. And the chef is easy on the eyes, too.”

Harry groans in embarrassment and takes a sip of tea, rolling his eyes at how ridiculous his boyfriend - _his boyfriend!_ \- is.

Too soon, it's time to actually get ready for work. Louis pulls on a pair of jeans he'd left at Harry's the other night while Harry dresses in his signature baking attire. At the front door of Harry's building, it's time to say goodbye, Louis heading for the tube and Harry towards his car.

It's drizzling, of course, so Louis pulls Harry's jacket tighter around his body. He pulls the hood up to protect Harry's head against the rain and uses the opportunity to grip the material and pull him in for a kiss.

Never mind the splashes of water kicking up at their feet as cars drive by, or the glare of streetlights on puddles. Never mind the damp, cool air licking at their exposed hands and cheeks. Standing with Louis at the front of his building in November rain, Harry has never felt warmer.

~~~

“Welcome back, my loves. Hope you’re enjoying your morning, and hopefully you’ve had time for a good breakfast. Can say I had a lovely breakfast this morning.” Louis greets into his microphone. “It's time for our favorite game,” he says, and lets the jingle play, “yes, that's right, Yay or Nay! Since covers are always on the table, I think this cover of one of the most meaningful songs is appropriate for this morning,” Louis’ heart swells with something as he thinks of the morning he had, making breakfast next to Harry, kissing in the rain. “It's one of my favorite covers, and I hope you'll like it too! Here's Twenty One Pilots with their rendition of Fools Rush In!”

Louis starts the song and leans back in his chair, letting the lyrics wash over him. _I can't help falling in love with you._ It takes less than thirty seconds for his phone to buzz on the table next to his laptop.

When he lifts it up, he's not surprised to see a text from Harry waiting for him. When he reads it, he bites his lower lip fighting a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

_“Yay. Definite yay.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to us on Tumblr at nooelgallagher and yoursongonmyheart.  
> The post for this fic can be found here


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